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      Help contribute, donate via PayPal or join with a monthly Patreon contribution.   01/01/17

      To help raise funds I've introduced a monthly contribution option called Pateron. This service allows you to pledge a monthly contribution plus allows me to offer you some rewards for your contribution. If you have any questions you may PM me. If you'd like to make that contribution please click on the image below:      
    • CMiller

      NEWS: Discord Server & Clubs (aka Groups) are back!   08/19/17

      Hello everyone I'm back with a couple big updates! Firstly we now have a Discord server, this is a real-time chat messaging client you can run on your phone, desktop, or anywhere. It's a pretty powerful desktop application that enables people to chat together, and with multiple channels you can find people interested in what you're interested in. If you don't already have a Discord account it's pretty easy to get one, just click the following invite link to get started: https://discord.gg/U93PYnB Secondly I'm proud to announce the return of Groups, it's been renamed to Clubs and is now available here: https://muscle-growth.org/clubs/. This system is entirely user generated and allows users to create groups of their own based on any subject they want. Go ahead and try it now, visit the link above to get started if you want to create or join a group!   As always thank you to all of our donators and Patreon contributors who keep the forums going! 

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  1. If the Shoe Fits.

    Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  2. Thought it was a play

    This muscle-growth story is dedicated in memory of James Joyce, Jack Kirby and Robert Mapplethorpe – geniuses in three very separate fields. I guess, that none of them would have appreciated this dedication, with the possible exception of the last one. I do not claim any level of originality here. I have treated the theme otherwhere in the past, but it was fun to write it. Thought it was a play Yes, it sounded good back at the club, but I didn't think you were serious. I love this type of role-play, and you are really, really my type, Sir, but now you are taking it too far. No, I've forgotten the safe word. Too bad? What do you mean with 'too bad'? If I think you are hot? Are you kidding? It isn't you, I am complaining about, it is what you are doing to me. This is beyond my limit, Sir. When I met you back at the club, I thought you were just into the same role-play as I am... You know the stuff: Pretending to grow into some sort of mind-controlled super-soldier, you know, like Captain America, but brainwashed. Or like Halo. Or Universal Soldier. As I told you: I like Halo. And you are so buff and so cut, hell, I couldn't believe my eyes and ears when you sat down, payed my Guinness and sat there, all muscle and camo and attitude and boot polish and jarhead cut, looking like some sort of badass superhero played by John Cena or an 80s action star, or someone, and I wondered why you sat down at my table, when there were all these other lads at the place: Some younger than me, some considerably older guys more ox-like daddyish than me, and lots of them much more built than me, I mean: With so many hot lads and dads to chose from, I'm really honoured, I'm really flattered, you know: I'm just average, so why chat up me of all guys, where I sat alone, wearing a pair of city-camo trousers, a black polo, blue braces, short – but not buzzcut – hair and shiny, glossy DM boots? Felt hot of course, but I know my limits, and you are usually beyond my league – look at those biceps of yours and that narrow waist with those broad shoulders, you can't be unaware of how you look, and what you do to men around you, can you? There's even sites for it online, Sir: Blokes like you and me writing stories about muscle growth, or cheering each other's real-life gains (modest in my case, sensational in your's), or using chats for RPs about impossible, larger-than-life muscle growth, so I supposed you must be one of them... Us... ...when you were drunk and began to talk about Project Antaeus, and it felt so hot. Fuck, Sir! You are so perfect in that Alpha jacket, showing your tight tank top over that bronzed chest... And the dog tags makes it even better – they look almost real... I love when you watch me with that arrogant gaze, Sir! I'm willing to obey you, but I feel uncomfortable with hoses stuck into my bottom, needles in my arm and unknown chemicals dripping into my IV – I've never used gear, Sir, even if I suspect that you know everything about it, by the look of you, but I was afraid of the side effects you hear so much about, you know, so, instead of being hot, it is slightly scary, since you behave like Project Antaeus was real, and it can't be, otherwise it would have leaked by now, and science isn't now in our age at the level that it could be true – in one hundred years perhaps, but not now, today – so you act like a lunatic, and I don't date lunatics – even if it is, in a sort of kinky way, slightly hot to be tied to this high-tech chair. I liked when you unbuttoned my trousers, and commanded me to step out of them – my jockstrap was perfect for your chair, and I like the smooth leather seat against my skin, and it feel good to let my boots remain on. What are you doing, Sir? Can't stop you with these cuffs around my wrists. My hair! The buzzing, tickling feeling, when you force me to endure a buzzcut. Changing me. Changing me into another man, a more disciplined look. Yes, Sir! I've said it earlier: I do think that you are hot – you don't have to ask again: You are an icon of masculinity, a monument of testosterone-oozing, alpha-assertive, exaggerated military masculinity, and I don't understand what you mean, when you tell me, that Project Antaeus was aborted before it reached the intended results. Just look at you! Yes! (Let us play!) Project Antaeus transformed you into the man you are today, and yes, look what you have become: It must have reached the intended results. It must. You are a super-soldier, Sir! Not enough? With all respect, Sir, but you are amazing, Sir! I would follow you blindly into battle, and I would eagerly share your bunk, Sir! And I would feel honoured to undergo the treatment you underwent in Project Antaeus... Illegally re-activated? What do you mean? Find out its real potential? More than you received? Much more? But, Sir! Even your level of stamina and strength would be a great achievement... (Yes, you are doing it so good, Sir! It feels so realistic. Keep going...) No, Sir. I do not know anything about DARPA. No, Sir, I don't understand the legal consequences of royal prerogative on the Commonwealth. Why would US, Canada, UK and the overseas territories cooperate in...? What do you mean, experiment on human beings? But that must be illegal? Not on this island? So this base is located here, because it is permitted to... Oh fuck, yes, Sir! I don't know what you are feeding into my veins, but it feel so good. A recruit? But I'm just a guy you picked up in a club, it can't... (Wow. So real.) Sir! Look at these shoulders and traps of mine. I feel so pumped. Pumped without any workout. So weird. So real. So good. Sir, I'm your recruit, and I declare myself willing to undergo Project Antaeus at full effect. Yes, Sir! (This is fun – you act so well) No, Sir! It doesn't matter to me, that Project Antaeus was re-activated illegally, I want to undergo the treatment, Sir! I give myself, body and mind, to this project, Sir! Yes, I am under your command, Sir, and I am willing to accept every additional treatment you deem valuable and efficient for the intended purpose. Yes, I am a willing test-subject and an obedient recruit. Yes, Sir! Put the earplugs in my ears, to induce brainwave programming, and electrodes to my temples. Since my hands and feet are cuffed to the examination chair, I am unable to stop you. I have to accept whatever treatment your whim have me undergo, but I am not unwilling, Sir! I'm willing to... Fuck! So good! So real (Sorry, Sir, didn't intend to break the play) Feel so... What are you doing to me, Sir? Feels like I'm actually growing? The re-building has begun? Yes, I understand, Sir: The shape of living beings can be scanned, and the scanned shapes projected onto other living beings. Scanned hundreds of bodybuilders? And hundreds of marines? Fused the scans into one unified and optimised male shape to project onto test subjects? Yes! Do it to me, Sir! I'm willing! I'm your recruit! Your willing test-subject! Yes, even further! Yes! Full potential! Intended results. (Fuck it feels so real) SIR! No! It's real! You can't do this to me! I have rights! What's in that IV? Inside me? Spreading inside me now? You have to let me go, before... No! Fuck! The scanned shapes... Projecting... Can't believe... Sir! Sir, I'm becoming... Sir, can't believe... The brainwaves... The formula inside... The projected shape... NO! SIR! YES! Yes! Like you! Becoming like you! Increasing T! And the shape! I can feel it, Sir! I can feel the shape around me... Yes. Fusing with my shape. It's MY shape. Yes. Warm. And buzzing of power. And full of power. And brimming of power. And overflowing of power... and strength... Fuck. Accumulating like a fucking battery. The shape. MY shape. Give it to me: My shape. The shape of this BEAST. Like you, Sir. Bigger than you, Sir. Can't believe it, Sir. Bigger. Look at me! Look at this! Look at this beast, you are creating, Sir! YOUR beast, Sir! You are creating a Beast Marine! Fuck, yeah, there goes my jockstrap! Look at this naked Beast Marine in boots. Fuck, yeah, there goes the cuffs. NOTHING can hold this BEAST MARINE tied to anything. Watch my strength, Sir! Watch my muscular power! Watch these guns and these quads and these – oh fuck yes, these abs – and I understand why you are horny now, Sir. I would have been horny, too, Sir, if I stood in the presence of someone like me: Now it is I who am an icon of masculinity, a monument of testosterone-oozing, alpha-assertive, exaggerated military masculinity! Yes, I am that! IV finished? Rid myself of that. So. Feels better now. Can flex now. Look at these guns, Sir! And these pecs! Much bigger than you, now. This you mean with 'intended results'? This confident studboi Beast Marine being more alpha than you are, Sir? I like that look in your eyes, Sir! What are you doing, Sir? Not possible! Increasing? YES! INCREASING! Fuck, Sir! Can't believe it! So good! More! YES! INCREASE! CAN'T BELIEVE IT IS POSSIBLE TO INCREASE MORE! Sir! So – uh uh uh uh – tall now, and my mass! My... MASS! Yes! Take that jacket off, Sir! And step out of those trousers... Join me, Sir! Join me! Yes! Into the radiation, the projection of the new, improved, enhanced big Shape. My Shape. Your Shape soon. The full impact of the radiation now, Sir. Nothing to stop it. Nothing to hinder it. We – the Prototypes of new improved BEAST MARINES. YES! Grow with me! Intended results... Oh, fuck, so much... Full potential... So much now, and still increasing... Yes, Sir, increase it more! I need the Power! And I want to see you join me! Become like me! Yes, your size, your gains now, Sir! All this brawn. My brawn, your brawn, bruiser brawn, insane levels of Power. BEAST MARINE Power! Still increasing! Still... oh fuck... increasing. So much. YES! 660 lbs and increasing! Increasing! Your 660 lbs BEAST MARINE recruit ready to obey your orders, Sir! Grow into mine fucking levels, Sir! Full potential... Full potential... The raw primal power of brutal strength. I'm your gargantuan giant, Sir! I'm your brutal bruiser behemoth! Engorged muscles! Can't believe power is still increasing! Yes, still increasing! Grow with me, Sir! Attain GIGANTIC BEAST POWER! Intended results... Full potential... Full potential... Approaching full potential... Approaching full potential... Yes! BEAST potential... This Prototype... The Power! The Brawn! Grow for you, Sir! FULL... FULL.. FULL... FULL... FULL... FULL... (Oh fuck, yeah!) FULL... (The Power... So much!) FULL... FULL... FULL... POTENTIAL!
  3. Unit 246: Chapter Four

    Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Chapter Three is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13142-unit-246-chapter-three/ Unit 246 Chapter Four Obediently, and without hesitation, Unit 246 fastened Sergeant Mulligan's still bootclad feet in the power sockets. Sergeant Mulligan could feel the army boots on his feet, and the rubber insulation of the sockets clinging to his calves. The dim light inside the chamber was reflected in the chromed exterior of the sockets, and Mulligan's camo trousers still covered his lower body. His upper body was naked, sweat glistening, since Mulligan perspired, under the influence of anticipation and excitement. Unit 388 endured his own Procedure in silence, since Emotion Access was deactivated, and Unit 388 was still growing more and more into an icon of impossible and intimidating masculinity. Unit 246 continued to fasten Sergeant Mulligan's hands in the two power sockets wide overhead, forcing Mulligan to form an X. It was now impossible for Sergeant Mulligan to leave the contraption, and he was forced to keep the slightly uncomfortable assumed X-position. Unit 246 loomed over him, a monument of protective muscular strength ready to explode into action. "Connect me to mind-program." When Unit 246 applied the electrodes to his shaved temples, Sergeant Mulligan shivered, and he could sense the low-intense murmur of the preparatory mind-programming running in his brain. "It is good, Unit 246. Now proceed to recline in the usual chair for updates, connect yourself to mind-program, and await update." Unit 246 obeyed his order. It felt like a lump in his throat, and Sergeant Mulligan swallowed. A hint of fear lightly brushed his conscious mind, and then faded away. A delightful trepidation awoke in his guts, and expanded into his chest. Then he gave the order: "Medical Artificial Intelligence 5, activate and run update on Unit 246. Activate power socket B." The metallic voice answered, devoid of any personality: "Activating power socket B." His body felt like it was humming, and he became pleasantly warm. "Activate the nanites inside the test subject!" "Sergeant Mulligan. Nanites activating. In test subject. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. Let me remind you. Sergeant Mulligan. That enhancement formula is. In prototype stage. Caution is adviced." "Caution acknowledged, but overrided in socket B and update station. Proceed." "Overriding Prototype Caution Protocol in socket B and update station. Proceeding. Safety Protocol activated. Unable to proceed with. Safety Protocol activated." "Deactivate Safety Protocol in socket B and update station." "Safety Protocol. Deactivated. In socket B and update station. By. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Proceed." "Proceeding. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 now identified. And activated. In test-subject, power sockets B. And at update station. Mind-program running. Concomitantly to. DNA-alteration. And. Nano-facilitated re-building. Hypertrophic power activated. Current now. Twenty millibanners. And increasing." Now, Sergeant Mulligan understood, why some test subjects used to express fear and nausea in the beginning of The Procedure. A temporary feeling of alienation to his own body spread, but, unlike usual test subjects, Sergeant Mulligan knew what to expect, and his eager thirst for strength quickly subdued the fear. He had looked forward to this. Soon, the strength of the most proficient armed unit of the entire galaxy would circulate in his veins. Soon, his average physical frame would turn into an unstoppable steel-hard titan. Soon, he would become like his subordinates, who for so long had been his physical superiors. He trembled again, and felt how his body was trapped in the contraption, unable to escape if anything, against all probability, would go wrong. Warm. Felt warm now. Comfortably warm. And relaxed. He swallowed again. His muscles began to ache in a non-painful, even pleasant way. It was really happening! With Unit 388 growing and transforming at socket A right before him, and Unit 246 growing and transforming at the update station to his right. Growing together with his subordinates. Growing with the lads. Growing with the hulk marines – where-ever did the civilians pick that nickname up? Growing together with his brothers in arms. Becoming. Uh! Uhnnnn! Becoming. Oh, fuck, yes! Becoming more than human! "Nanites fully integrated. And working according preferred prototype enhancement formula. DNA alteration incomplete, but running. Testosterone levels rising. Hypertrophic power current. One hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." "M.A.I.5! Increase and intensify!" "Increasing. Intensifying." Oh, fuck, yes! It was happening! It was happening, now! His old daydream... becoming true... joining his men! So unbelievably good! He took pride in acting calmly and making well-considered decisions even in extreme situations, but he had never been able to compete with the disimpassioned resolve of the Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen under his command, and he craved that level of serenity and will-force. He could already feel the impact of the mind-control, and he took the feeling in. Drank of it eagerly. Cherished it. Embraced it. But there was something he missed? Under these circumstances, he wouldn't always be able to give Medical Artificial Intelligence 5 the necessary orders to increase and intensify the process, when needed. Better let the Artificial Intelligence handle that. "M.A.I.5! Continue to increase and intensify all parameters and levels continuously, until I give you an express order to terminate this. The order apply to all sockets and update stations." "Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6. Has given. Permitted order to. Increase and. Intensify. All sockets and update stations. Continuously. Will not terminate, until given permitted order by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Good." "Hypertrophic power current. Twelve hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." He could hear the breathing of Unit 388 and Unit 246 increase, when The Procedure intensified, and he could watch Unit 388 grow to incomprehensible levels of muscular strength. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." He could feel himself becoming taller, and he could feel his army boots disintegrating inside the power sockets. His quads and hamstrings forced themselves out from his camo trousers, ripping them apart. Tatters of camo-patterned fabric laid scattered around his station. With these legs, he could lift mountains. Yes! He was becoming a super-soldier! Yes! Change me! Brutally force me to become more! Make me a hulk-marine for the Empire! Heroic proportions! Monstrous proportions! His abs turned into a set of pétanque-boules hard as steel. It felt unbelievable. His pecs grow into godlike proportions. His shoulders broadened. His traps... Oh God! His traps! The power was so overwhelming now, and the mind-program was like a wave drowning his individual mid, tearing his soul apart in a all-consuming feeling of rage, lust and ultra-masculinity. The individual unit roared in bliss, power and ecstacy. The individual unit grew... "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Two thousand seven hundred millibanner. And increasing." The individual unit grew and it felt how it increased its capacities further. Unit 389 floated in a sea of stimulating power, and it could feel its strength increase. More. More. Without end. It liked how its strength increased more, more and without end, but it noticed, that Emotion Access was enabled, and the intensity of The Procedure could be difficult to handle at these levels. With Emotion Access enabled, it was hard to concentrate enough to call the attention of any superior officer. Hard. To concentrate. So good. So hard! His capacity! Sky rocketing! His brothers. In arms. Growing too. Big. Brothers. Together. Mighty. Tough. Brawny. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Three thousand three hundred millibanner. And increasing." Unit 389 was dimly aware of the warm, hard, growing presence of his brothers. Growing. But it was not aware of anything else in its surroundings. Empowerment. It was stronger now. Stronger than any man in the Galaxy. Except his two brothers. Unit 246. And Unit 388. Here. Present. Undergoing extreme hypertrophy and hyperplasia together. Undergoing DNA alteration together. Joining his brothers in size and strength. Together. Bigger. Could crush mountains. Couldn't remember any time in the past, when it could not crush mountains. It had no past. Unit 389 felt how it was being born in this very minute. Born to inherit Power, Brawn and Might. With his brothers. To fight in combat with his brothers. Bravely. To defend. To protect. And to be an Enhanced Special Marine Serviceman. Hulk-marine. The civilians said. Yeah! Look at these hulk-marines! Look at this hulk-marine! Seven foot, two inches. And growing. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Four thousand one hundred millibanner. And increasing." It wanted to crush asteroids. It was a steel monument. A steel monument dedicated to ultra-masculinity. And strength. And willingness to put oneself in danger's way. To protect. To defend. No, a monument of chromium! A monument of titanium! A monument of tungsten! It felt like its bodily presence expanded in all directions, all its muscles engorged to an insane level – feeling like planet-sized muscles – veins spreading all over him. It wasn't sure if it roared. It wasn't sure about anything outside the intense experience of re-programming its mind and re-programming its physique. Reprogramming. In order to defend and protect. The hypertrophic power streaming into its defenceless and unprotected body was beginning to feel hard to bear. Too much. Perhaps better terminate The Procedure. "M.A.I.5! Terminate Procedure at all stations!" "Negative. Test subject identified as Unit 389. Will not terminate, until given permitted order by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." Unit 389 felt slightly confused. Something wasn't aright, but his confusion was drowned in the feeling of further empowerment. It was almost too much. Almost. But it also felt pleasurable beyond description. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Eight thousand six hundred millibanner. And increasing. All test subjects now reaching. Height eight feet. And increasing." His brothers began to roar and moan now, despite that their Emotion Access was disabled. He roared, too. And moaned. Sinking deeply into the rapture of growth. Of becoming. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Ten thousand one hundred millibanner. And increasing." An alarm went off somewhere, but it didn't matter. Something broke. He didn't know what. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was, that the Artificial Intelligence continued to increase and intensify all parameters and levels continuously. He wanted it. He craved it. He eagerly embraced the full effect. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Twelve thousand three hundred millibanner. And increasing." He didn't know for how long time The Procedure continued. Unit 389 was unable to terminate it, but it didn't matter. There was no such thing as too much. There was only the rapture of muscular empowerment without limits. Without any limits at all. Without any limits of brawn. Without any limits... Unit 389 increased his capacity. For the Empire. And the Emperor. And his brothers in arms. Stronger. Becoming a power-being. Becoming a nuclear explosion. Becoming indomitable. Becoming invincible. Becoming... * * * Chapter Five is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13150-unit-246-chapter-five/
  4. Unit 246: Chapter Three

    Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Chapter Two is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13129-unit-246-chapter-two/ Unit 246 Chapter Three Sergeant Mulligan trembled in anticipation: He wanted to know. He wanted to know how far the lads under his command could grow. He wanted to know what the Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 would do to a slim and narrow-shouldered civilian, and Unit 246 had brought a test subject for him. To hell with precautions! Why spend valuable time on evaluation of formulas 7.3 and 8.0 when the 8.1 already existed in a prototype state? He wanted to know. The civilian – a protester even – had been given a meal, which he seemed to appreciate. What did the central galactic administration and the multi-corporations think of, when they increased fees and prices on food, and why on earth had they re-routed some of the shipping routes? Even if those mining families had no right to protest in the violent manner they did – we ought to trust the Emperor – they were right on one point: All human beings need food. Well, now the civilian had been given a meal and a nutrition-injection, and Unit 246 had brought him to Lab 5 on Sergeant Mulligans order. Unit 246 had stripped the frightened test subject naked, and fastened the feet and hands of the test subject in the four power sockets. Unlike the updates, managed while the individual unit reclined in a sort of chair, the initial enhancement Procedure demanded another treatment. The chrome-shining power sockets swallowed the test subject's hands and feet entirely, and he stood with his skinny legs broad apart inside the sockets, shaping an X with his arms. Unit 246 was now attaching a hose to the test subject's genitals. The test subject became pale. He looked frightened, and didn't dare to say anything to Sergeant Mulligan or Unit 246. Mulligan was curious: Some of the early recruits had a background in sports, or had good records from earlier military service. The second generation consisted at a ratio of 20% of sons of former Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen, with no former background in the Forces until The Procedure. This test subject was uncharacteristically thin, but the hopes for the 8.1 update aimed at something more extreme than hitherto. Something amazing could be about to happen, opening a wider range of future recruits, unless some unforeseen side effect would kick in. Like the 5.4 upgrade... A short moment of hesitation went by, when Sergeant Mulligan remembered the screams of the deformed monstrosities, that were the result of the discontinued 5.4 upgrade. The scientists must have transcended such obstacles since quite a long time, by now. The scientists still warned against using any formula newer than the 7.2 upgrade, but why take so long time with the prototype formulas? The 7.3 prototype worked well on Unit 246, a few days ago, didn't it? Mulligan wanted to build prototype soldiers. Some day... Some day he wanted to become one of them. He had led these larger-than-life marines in combat so many times, marvelled at their stamina, performance... Self-control... Muscles... Their superior in the command chain, but their inferior when it came to actual capacity. Some day, he wanted to join them. The test subject had been overcome with fright, but now his fear released a string of words: "Don't you see, Bill? It's me! Max! Please, release me from this machine! Don't torture me! I don't know anything about the leaders of the protest. I just joined, because I needed food! I don't know anything! There's no use for torturing me! It's me, Bill! Remember?" "Unit 246, administer the DNA-alering injection to the test subject." "Yes, Sir!" It was done. A muffled cry from the test subject. "Unit 246, administer Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 to the test subject." "Yes, Sir!" "What was that? Truth serum? But I do not know anything you want to know! Bill?" Unit 246 looked straightforward in a dispassionate and slightly machine-like way. "Unit 246, connect the test subject to mind-program." "Yes, Sir!" The eyes of the test-subject widened. "Leave the chamber, Unit 246!" "Yes, Sir!" Unit 246 towered at the side of Sergeant Mulligan, and watched the chamber. "M.A.I.5! Heat the chamber up!" The Medical Artificial Intelligence answered with its usual metallic voice: "Sergeant Mulligan. Chamber is. Heating up." A familiar humming sound began and increased in volume. "M.A.I.5! Activate the nanites inside the test subject!" "Sergeant Mulligan. Nanites activating. In test subject. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. Let me remind you. Sergeant Mulligan. That enhancement formula is. In prototype stage. Caution is adviced." "Caution acknowledged, but overrided. Proceed." "Overriding Prototype Caution Protocol. Proceeding. Safety Protocol activated. Unable to proceed with. Safety Protocol activated." "Deactivate Safety Protocol." "Safety Protocol. Deactivated by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Proceed." "Proceeding. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 now identified. And activated. In test-subject, power sockets A. Mind-program running. Concomitantly to. DNA-alteration. And. Nano-facilitated re-building. Hypertrophic power activated. Current now. Twenty millibanners. And increasing." "What's happening to me? What's this? It's..." The faint outlines of the test-subject's muscles were becoming visible. "No! What are you doing? What's happening to my body? Like it's taken over by something not me... Feel sick... Must puke... Sickening feeling... So alien... What the fuck is happening to me?" The metallic voice of M.A.I.5 interrupted: "Nanites fully integrated. And working according preferred prototype enhancement formula. DNA alteration incomplete, but running. Testosterone levels rising." "BILL! You must release me! Something sick is happening! Something..." Unit 246 observed the chamber, without showing any reaction. Sergeant Mulligan observed, fascinated by what he saw. At this early level, it looked fairly similar to what he had observed innumerable times, but the novel aspect of this experiment was, that a typical ectomorph was able to achieve the same level as the more typical mesomorphs used in the past. "Hypertrophic power current. One hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." The test subject's fear seemed to melt away, but something else was rising. "I said: Release me! You bloody wankers out there, even you, Bill! I trusted you! Now you let me out or I shall... I shall... Yes! O fuck, yes! Bigger now! I will fucking give you a thrashing, with this new strength, if you don't let me out, and let... Fuck! So good! Couldn't have dreamed of..." "Hypertrophic power current. Five hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying. Testosterone increasing. DNA-alteration progress 25%. Nanite activity at 35%. And increasing." "Wait? What are you doing? No! You can't... Can't make me into a hulk-marine! I don't want to become one of them! I'll find you a cure, Bill. I promise! Let me out, so that this... Oh, fuck! So good! So much! You can't change me... Look at these guns! Can't move them now, but anyhow... YES! Look at this bruiser... this brick shithouse... I'll show you when I break free... Let you see some aggro! I'll marmalise you! The power streaming through me... so bloody UNBELIEVABLE!" "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." "YES! Look at me! The new Uni... No! No, you can't change me! I'm Max, Bill! Remember Max? So big now... Like you, Bill... Becoming like you... So good! So much! So big! So hard! Like a good mari- ... NO! I'm me, I'm not... So fucking massive. I could soon crush this machine if I wanted, but I don't WANT to crush it, since it is so GOOD when it cram me more and more full with this muscle building POWER... No one will mess with me. I'm a loyal... NO! I'M MYSELF! Program me according to your wish, Sarge... NO! So big! Like a good marine! Noooooo!" "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." Unit 246 didn't show any reaction to the test subjects' ramblings, but Sergeant Mulligan studied the process with deep interest. It was the best enhancement formula he had witnessed. The test subject was now of about the same size as Unit 246, and The Procedure wasn't even half-way. Enormous pecs protruded from the wide chest, and a monstrous – yet functional – trapezius covered his back, thick lats hanging on each sides. Veins covered large areas of the test subject's body. Instruments allowed them to hear the test subject's heart beat. "Hypertrophic power current. Twelve hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." "I'M MYSEEEEEEELF! Sir! Unit 388 reporting for duty! Please enhance the abilities and capacities of this individual unit, Sir! This individual unit exist for the purpose of enhancing his capacity and use his capacity to the utmost, for the sake of the Galactic Empire. Let me inform you, Sir, that Emotion Access is still activated, and that... Uh! Uhnn! Let me... UH! ...That The Procedure is quite intense. Sir! So good! More, Sir! Give me more!" "Hypertrophic power current. Two thousand millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying. DNA-alteration progress 97%. Nanite activity at 95%. Testosterone level. Rising." Sergeant Mulligan would soon deactivate Emotion Access, but he wanted to observe the next minute or two. The test subject was now bigger than any former or existing Enhanced Special Marine Serviceman. "Yes, Sir! Bulging all over! Every muscle engorged WITH POWER! Could crush anything! For the Emperor and the Empire! This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for pleasure and this is for fun! Joining my brothers in arms! Defend! Protect! Yes! Increasing!" "Hypertrophic power current. Two thousand five hundred millibanners. And increasing." "Unit 388, deactivate Emotion Access." "Sir! Yes, Sir! Emotion Access deactivated. Proficiency levels increasing, Sir!" "M.A.I.5! Procure Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. for two further test subjects!" A white cylinder moved away from the antiseptic wall, and the metallic voice returned: "Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. for two further test subjects procured." "Pick it up, Unit 246." "Yes, sir." He picked them up. Sergeant Mulligan trembled. He was going to show them. He was going to show his superiors the advisability and usefulness of using Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1, despite all the talk about safety precautions over at Research and Development. "Unit 246, administer the DNA-alering injection to me." "Yes, Sir!" "Unit 246, administer Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 to me and yourself." "Yes, Sir!" "Unit 246, now enter the chamber, together with me. "Yes, Sir!" Sergeant Mulligan was going to show them. He was going to show them the power of the prototype formula. He was going to show them his power. He was going to become the second prototype. * * * Chapter Four is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13146-unit-246-chapter-four/
  5. The Jock Hunter

    Well, due to this being requested to be posted on this site since the O’Melissokomos site isn't compatible with mobile, here is The Jock Hunter for all who wished to read it here. Enjoy. (It's an old, story so please don't just my atrocious use of flowery prose. I do NOT write like this currently). Prologue: It was quiet. The crisp night air slithered through the trees, swaying the boughs and shivering the leaves. I stood in the darkness, the gathered night shielding me from any prying eyes. I watched Narrow Steed Community College, a boxy, rectangular bulk across the football field. The scent of my prey still lingered here, from the afternoon’s practice. I inhaled deeply, drawing the scent further into my nostrils. I paced the field, the grass and dry autumn leaves making no sound, observing the school, purveying my new territory, my fresh hunting ground. For that is after all what I am. A Hunter, a Hunter of jocks, all those who exude the heady masculinity that satiated my gnawing hunger. And Hunt them I did, for as the Lion is made to hunt the Gazelle, so I was made to Hunt them; my scent, my movement, all of it a tool to seduce and then consume their masculinity. I picked up a maple leaf, ochre red, like blood, I crushed it in my left hand, feeling the dry leaf in my hand turn to dust. “So it begins…” The Jock Hunter Part One By: JadeDragon (Solomon, previously) Narrow Steed was certainly your average rural college; you had your Brains, your Jocks, your Airheads, essentially the Cool Crowd, and the Not Cool Crowd. It was so explicitly ordinary that the student’s often complained that if only something ever happened then they would have good reason to show up to class on time. As it stood, the Cool Crowd was certainly outnumbered by the Not Cool, but as a whole, Narrow Steed Community College had a healthy population of jocks. Specifically the football jock, rare species he is in less rural areas. But, when in the rural areas, this particular species of jock thrives, as evidenced by their healthy population in this backwater college. So as the morning bell rang, I entered the college. The halls were concrete faux brick, as so many of the old colleges are, the walls made in the style reminiscent of the fifties, the linoleum floor in a constant state of needing to be cleaned. The caretakers tried their best, but in this old building dirt was so ingrained it was the floor. The student’s bustled about their way, most heading to class, some not, whether or not they actually had a spare period was anybody’s guess. I walked past the milling figures, masking my presence, watching their faces. No one would suspect what I was, and the people that do are only too late. Who would suspect a scrawny guy like me, looking like he’s hardly 18, let alone how old I really am, as someone worth even a first thought, let alone a second one. I posed a fantastic amount of danger to the resident jocks, though they don’t seem to be in the halls. Going on a hunch, I head to the cafeteria. Some may wonder how I just slip into a totally foreign college and be there, without registering or papers. I can, to some extent, direct people’s patterns of thought, if anybody asks, they find their minds glazing over the subject until it seems like the fact that I’m there just is. A useful tool indeed to stalk my prey; and now I must get to the stalking part. As I entered the cafeteria, the poignant smell of the jocks hit me over the head like an aluminium baseball bat. Mixed in, of course, are the rotten, fetid smells of those disgusting cafeteria foods, I can hardly guess how these people manage to eat that slop. But there! Like a jewel amidst mere pebbles, there they are! My prey, the jocks, had their own table. They were all dressed in their appropriate jerseys; some were alarmingly svelte, receivers and their ilk. They weren’t my prime choice of prey, but thankfully there were more than enough of my “tenderloin” meat than I usually hope for. Many of them had bulging muscle, their pecs stretching the front of their jerseys, while their thick, powerful arms seemed to attempt to burst from their sleeves. Some, of course, had softer, less defined muscle, where their bellies stretched their jerseys also, but I have nothing against them. They still prove to be most succulent meals, those linemen, linebackers, and fullbacks. The others of my kind have their own personal tastes, but to me nothing is wrong for a man, or jock, to have a little bit of pudge, or a gut, as long as the muscles matched. Choosing a table across the room from where my handsome prey are sitting, I close my eyes, focussing my hearing in the hopes of eavesdropping upon them. Straining, I begin to pick out their voices: “Fuck yeah, man! Thursday’s game was totally awesome! Thirty four to three, shit we rock!” said Scott, punctuating his point by slamming the grey plastic and metal table. The steel buckled a little, as his bicep bulged. Scott was strong, his buffed frame stretching out his jersey fashionably, but he enjoyed parties too much to have a six pack. His brown curly hair and blue eyes made up for it though, at least the girls he fucked told him as much. “But man, we should’ve had a shutout.” complained Russell. “If Chris over here hadn’t let them fucking through the defensive!” Russell was a little bit of a cry baby, despite his enormous 6 foot 4 inches, and 230 pounds. He was a linebacker, but only had a bit of a roid belly and was otherwise lean, since he was so needle-happy. But his straight, short blonde hair and baby blue eyes lent him an extremely fetching look. “Shut up, Russell!” shouted Chris, giving Russell a swat to the back of the head. Chris was a true blue linebacker, his muscle softened with fat and his jersey deformed in the front by his belly. “It’s the day before game day, and we don’t need your fucking attitude messing with us getting into the zone!” “What fucking zone is that, Chris?! There is no fucking zone, except the end zone, which you let number eighty-nine into!” said Russell, raising his voice. “Shut up, the both of you!” said Brad, team captain. He was a true prize; he was a bulked god, 300 pounds and 6 foot 2 inches at least. His dark, wavy hair was only of average length, not too long. His handsome clear green eyes looked out from beneath his dark eyebrows. His body was well proportioned, and his muscle was fantastic, but he was fond of the keg a little too much, and had a little paunch, but he was still a true man, his heady masculine scent rolled off him in waves. And if the bulging package in his jeans was any indication, he was just as fine without his clothes on too. He was smoking hot; I could feel the hunger gnaw at me more acutely, as hunger gnaws at a starving man more fiercely as he stands before a magnificent feast. “Yeah, or I’ll bust your ass in practice, you hear?” Quipped Mike, Brad’s Lieutenant in every sense of the word. He had flaming red hair, and malachite green eyes. He on the other hand, was much more disciplined in terms of diet then his friend, and his tight, defined muscles bulged from every part of him. His traps were so huge he looked like he was on a permanent shrug. His arms looked as hard as marble, and his thighs stretched his jeans like a sausage in a too tight skin, and his package stretched out his tight jeans nicely too. They continued their conversation for some time, nothing more relevant to my intellect then if a man were listening to the conversation of molluscs. As much as they were buff, hot, and handsome, they were still a lower life-form in comparison to me. Still watching their flexing, heaving muscles stretch and deform their jerseys was more than enough to get me hard, hot, and bothered. I smiled to myself ruefully; I always took so much interest in my food. I couldn’t wait to taste those muscles, and their thick, hot, jock cum. And watch them shrivel before my eyes. Suddenly the group got up, breaking my concentration and startling me out of my erotic thoughts. I could hear no more of their conversation, and the other handsome morsel’s names escaped my attention. Picking themselves up, some more hulking and slow than the others, the jocks herded out the door of the cafeteria, I walked toward the orange painted steel doors, and followed. The morning progressed, as I continued to stalk the hall; following the scent of my helpless prey. The halls often meandered aimlessly, like the architect was on acid or something. Nevertheless, I followed the delectable aroma wafting through the air unerringly, and I found my prey. I walked the halls, with the scent trail in my nostrils, my walk full of purpose and intent. People’s eyes would slide over me like my image was dark as black onyx. I arrived at my destination, the gymnasium, the reek of football jocks hung about me in the air. I loitered around the gymnasium change room in the late morning, stalking the scent of my acquired prey, Brad. Leaning against the cold concrete, I watched his nice round but stretching the back of his jeans, his muscles and gentle fat hopelessly alluring, hinting at a treasure trove of hot muscle and masculine energies. He was so ripe, so juicy for the picking I couldn’t resist going for him first. Normally, I try to pace myself, but I hadn’t fed in so long, he was just the fix I needed to take the edge off the hunger. Watching as he and some other football jocks entered the men’s change room, I entered as well. It must be time for morning practice, I thought to myself with a smirk. The change room was well lit, and there was a bench with metal bars extending to the ceiling with hooks in the centre of the room. The bars themselves were painted, but the paint had flaked and rust had devoured the bars in some places. The football lockers were off to one side, and the other walls had benches, but the hooks were only just drilled into the concrete. The floor was, inevitably, caked with grime and the showers were less-than-pleasant. As I walked in, breathing the scent of football jock, the football jocks themselves were in various stages of undress, but most were at least down to their boxers, and one or two boxer briefs, and just one in briefs. They turned, curious at the intrusion, some not bothering to look, complacent in their perceived dominance as the top of the food chain. Oh, how so, so wrong they are. However, as my scent filled to room, as it must, for I exude it as surely as their reek of masculinity wafts off of them, they all turned to look at me. Packages of various levels of impressiveness began to stretch their underwear. I eyed up the twin stretches of their balls, and was impressed at how well endowed this particular group of jocks were. Their strong, muscular bodies rippled as they turned and stared at me. Some were soft with fat, others hard and ripped. The others, the unappetizing scrawny ones weren’t here, so I stared casually at the smorgasbord which lay before my eyes. They all were so positively gods of muscle, of the masculine form; it would make what would come next all the more steep a fall for them. I licked my lips, nothing was more appetizing then college football jocks! “Oh my, I guess I must have gotten turned around.” I said, turning toward the door. I smirked, as I readied myself against the onslaught of noise sure to come. Instantly, the jocks leapt into action, their thick, muscular bodies moving to try and direct me, to get closer to me, anything to be near me. Their heaving, bulky bodies jostled each other, but of course, the strongest of them would elbow his way to me first. I turned toward Brad, his thick, but slightly fat softened muscles heaved the crowd apart, and he reached me. He had muscled the other jocks out of the way and was leaning close to me; I could see him start to sweat with nervousness. I could also see his bull balls were too large for the pair of briefs he had on, for I could see their sides as they stretched the white fabric briefs. His thick cock, now at least 14 inches hard, was peeking out of the top of his briefs as well. The whole of the fabric of his briefs strained to contain the immensity of his godlike cock and balls, so full and thick they were. He shook his hair and smiled, flexing his shirtless muscles slightly. “Hey, man. Are you new here? What’s your name?” he asked, with a smile, as his cock throbbed harder and harder, no doubt my presence was going to make him cum without even touching his thick cock. “John Smith.” I answered; my “official” name was always that incredibly generic, so no one could trace me, not that they’d succeed in harming me if they did. “No, problem, I’ll help you. I know the school and I can show you around.” said Brad, leaning against the wall, close enough that our respective scents were flooding the nostrils of the other, mine making him horny and his making me hungry. He pulled ever closer to me, as I got the full view of his strong traps, thick, meaty pecs, and little paunch of a belly. “No, it’s alright; I’ll just get a map from the office.” I said, wanting to make him squirm a little. I reached for the door handle. “No! Wait!” shouted Brad, his voice laced with the tone of panic, slamming the door shut. The other jocks too, shouted their protest. “No man, don’t go!” “We’ll be your pals!” “Please, stay!” Brad couldn’t understand what was happening to him. This scrawny little guy was making him so horny, he wanted to touch him, kiss him, and fuck him. “I’m not a fag” was Brad’s surest thought, but he was so turned on, he could barely care about that. His cock however, told no lies to me, even though I could hear his thoughts clearly, it strained and bulged and pulsed, aching for release. Brad panted, and rubbed his monster cock though the fabric of his tight briefs. He loved wearing pairs of briefs that was too tight for him; it accentuated his monster cock even more. He was especially proud his was the biggest cock on the team, and he flaunted it mercilessly. The other jocks shifted on their feet restlessly, I could feel they wanted me, badly, but I used my telepathy to make sure they took no action just now; I’d get to them later. I smiled, and lay a hand on his bulging bicep, feeling the curvature, admiring the power and thickness of the muscle. Brad’s cock leapt again, his breath quickened, and he looked like he was about to cum right then and there. I leaned in close against his body, looking at its thickness, admiring the buff, juicy muscle; his pecs were just so nice, two full, round domes of muscle. His thick cock had started to ooze precum, and the scent was difficult to resist, I wanted to feed right then and there, but I steeled myself. I placed my hand on his chest, and stroked downward, enjoying the feeling of his smooth skin, before reaching his soft bellybutton. His little paunch, but now that I see it up closer, in my scrutiny I realise it’s more like a baby gut than anything else. I push into the soft warmness of it with my index finger, and instantly Brad shot his thick jock load. His thick muscular body wracked with the spasms of his orgasm, and his thick creamy cum soaked onto his belly and into his underwear, till they were both dripping with jizz. His heavy body leans on me for support as the thrusting of his hips made him weak at the knees as he shot wad after wad of cum. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of bliss to Brad, his orgasm let up, and he staggered, struggling to lift his heavy body to his own two feet. He blushed as he realised what had just happened, the still-hot cum dripping from his underwear and belly. The other jocks were silent, my power still influencing their minds to remain inactive, both my scent, and my telepathy. My left hand is covered with his cum, I raise it to my mouth, and lick slowly, savouring the delectable taste, but the meal is hollow. It is not the cum of jocks that truly will sate my hunger. He shudders, at the sight of my tongue slipping across my fingers, scooping up his thick jock jizz, obviously imagining my tongue at work doing other things. My smile is sanguine as I begin to act out the next part of my plan. “Brad, why don’t you come with me, and I can take you out to lunch?” I say with a winning smile. “What do you say?” I conclude. Brad’s face light’s up like the morning sky. “Yeah…sure…totally!” Brad said, shaking with excitement, his cock giving another stretch of his briefs, desperate for freedom. His slight gut jiggling, I say: “How about you get cleaned up, I’ll take you outside, to the college parking lot? We can get in my car, and I’ll drive you.” I say, now not bothering to hide the seductive tone in my voice. I reach out my right hand and fondle his bull balls through his underwear, admiring their great weight. “Oh god, I’ll be right there!” said Brad, flinging off his soaked underwear, letting his enormous cock flop free. The scale of the thing was truly enormous, his 14 inch cock was too thick for even his own meaty paws to get around, and his balls were each as big as a softball. The other jocks were eyeing Brad enviously I noticed, not just for the fact he was gaining my attention, but I think he must have flaunted that dick every chance he got. Rapidly Brad put on another too-tight pair of briefs, although this one quite dry. Quickly Brad followed with the rest of his clothes, but this time wearing a tight blue tee-shirt rather than his jersey, which he threw into his football locker, Brad came up next to me. Smiling briskly, he wrapped one thick, muscular arm around my shoulder, as his cock throbbed and stretched through his tight jeans. “Let’s go.” I say with a smile, as I wrap my arm around his slightly pudgy waist, and lead him out the change room door, while the other jocks kneaded their own thick cocks through their boxers, looking at my retreating form forlornly. I gave them a wink, and mouth “I’ll be back later”; leaving with my meal safely in tow. Giving Brad a quick squeeze, we departed. As we walked down the hallways leading toward the front of the building, I gently knead and massage Brad’s body, all the muscles and fat, and he relaxed in my embrace. My pheromones also help as well, drawing this hapless hunk deeper under my spell. The longer he’s around me, the more his mind is affected, and soon he’ll be unable to resist me at all. I’m sure he could hardly think straight as I thrust open the door to the building into the bright sun on a beautiful cloudless day. I lead him out across the parking lot to my car, heading into the back forty. The silver paint of my gleaming Prius shines in the midmorning sunlight, and I opened the car door for my prize, and helped him into the car, for by now his motor skills are beginning to be impaired, as any drunk would. I think to myself with a smile: “Except he’s now drunk with my presence rather than alcohol, the hapless stud.” I get in myself, in the driver’s seat and close the door, locking the car. I can see his massive meat throb in his jeans, and I grasp his upper arm, squeezing that thick bicep of his. His panting, laboured breathing is cut off as I draw him into a passionate kiss. I can feel a slight blip in his thoughts that this is wrong, that he’s not homosexual, but it is swiftly crushed into oblivion under the tsunami of pleasure my scent and proximity invoke. He leans into me, now, and we kiss long and hard, his soft lips against mine, and my blood runs hot as my own cock gets even harder. All too soon, I pull away, grinning like a madman. “How about that lunch, Brad?” I say, as I start the car and start driving. Quickly turning out of the parking lot and begin to drive down the main road before quickly following the back road. We drive for about half and hour, all the while Brad’s huge chest heaving with his heavy breathing, as he kneads his titanic dick through his tight jeans. We make it to my house, in this part of the country at least; the open, modern design shining in boxy chrome, glass, and white concrete. “This is your house?” asked Brad breathlessly. Quite astute for his horny state, I think to myself. “Yep, it’s all mine, inheritance, billions of dollars. Come inside, I’ll give you a time to remember.” I say, slyly. I squeeze his cock through his jeans, and get out of the car, and walk over to the passenger door and help my stud out of my car; leading my prey into the lion’s den, as it were. I watch his tight shirt, his muscles and slight pudge stretching the fabric, and I’m even starting to become impatient, my heart beating faster, anticipating what is to come. “Wow, you must be rich!” exclaims Brad, as he peruses the plush interior. Expensive paintings and furniture adorned the walls and floors, respectively, with an overall modern style. I lean over as we enter the spacious modern kitchen and give Brad’s slight love handle a squeeze. “You bet. You look a little decadent as well, Brad.” I say with a wink. Brad blushed profusely, trying to pull down his tight shirt which was riding up his gut slightly. “Uh, yeah I’m totally planning on hitting the gym and losing it!” he said, fumbling, his blush getting even redder as he began to look uncomfortable. “That’s not a problem, Brad; I like them with a bit of meat.” I said, with emphasis. My touch has Brad breathing like a marathon runner again, and his thick cock is straining to be free of its denim prison. “You know, we may as well forget about lunch, Brad. We know what we both want, don’t we?” I say, smiling, leaning even closer, only a kiss distance away. “I’m n-not que-…” Brad begins, but I cut him off with another kiss, my pheromones flooding his system now, dissolving even the faintest hint of resistance. I could feel the chemical consume his conscious resistance like a school of ravenous piranha. I was all Brad wanted now, nothing mattered except me. Breaking away from his muscular embrace, I pulled Brad’s tight shirt over his head, and admired the soft muscularity of his chest, and the slight treasure trail curving down his paunch. Soon I’m all over him, kissing his pecs, his arms, all over his chest, and working my way down his body, feeling the warm flesh with my lips. The kisses of course were fucking hot, but that wasn’t the only reason why. Each kiss was an injection of my venom, which was now coursing through Brad’s body, preparing it for my feeding on his masculinity, on the totality of his testosterone reserves. He didn’t notice, as I did, that his bull balls were swelling in the fabric of his jeans even more now, and the weakness of his muscles as already they began to liquefy and flow to his balls. As I whipped the belt away and undid his jeans, Brad began to moan: “Do it, John, I want you, do it…” And I was happy to oblige. His already large package had swelled even more ridiculously with the venom, and his briefs were starting to tear from their sheer size and weight. I pulled his briefs swiftly down, but I didn’t remove his pants yet, I loved the way the clothes hung on these hapless jocks after I was done feeding on them. Grasping his now 16 inch cock, feeling it pulse in my grip in time with Brad’s heartbeat. His log of a dick oozing precum, I wrap my lips around its warm, sensuous surface. Pushing it as deep into my mouth as it could go, I start to suck and slurp Brad’s monster dick. “Oh…god…fuck…FUCK!” muttered and moaned, and even occasionally shouted, Brad, as all my pheromones and venom coursed through his body, producing lust and sexual desire unlike any he had before experienced, and wouldn’t wear off till I had drained him for every last drop. The thick, creamy precum was already sliding down my throat as I sucked his thick dick even harder, drawing my tongue up and down the thick shaft, and sometimes making swallowing motions with it in my throat. The warm pulsing cock was one of the best I had ever sucked, and I especially appreciated its size, and I was rock hard knowing what was going to start happening next. I knew that Brad wasn’t going to last long after all the things I was doing to his cock. Finally, he shot his first load, his thick cock convulsing with each wad of cum shot, and he leaned against the kitchen counter for support, as he suddenly felt much weaker, but much hornier than ever. As the hot cum belted down my throat, Brad began to change, slowly, gradually, at first. I watched as his huge pecs started to deflate, like two spherical balloons with the air let out of them. His massive biceps deflated, loosing inch after inch as he cummed his own muscles away, shrinking and collapsing. His thick thighs and calves started loosing their tree trunk look, shrinking and losing muscularity and strength. Most noticeably of all, inch after inch of height was being lost by my manly stud, as his system was drained of testosterone and masculinity. His once massive chest was surely, steadily losing size and thickness, his whole body shrinking down like he was an inflatable with a sizeable leak. Not exempted was his godly cock, which was now also steadily shrinking, as I could fit more and more of its diminishing length and thickness in my mouth, I sucked even harder, as I felt my hunger beginning to lose its edge. “John, I…feel…funny…” Brad gasped, but he didn’t try to pull away, not that he would have succeeded anyway. His mighty cock, 16 full thick inches when we started was now diminished to only 9, even shorter than when it was before the venom was given. I watched with complete satisfaction as his softball balls contract with each blast of hot cum, but failing to expand to their previous volume, soon they were diminished to tennis ball size. His package was still manly, but he was definitely nowhere near the biggest guy on the team, in both senses of the word. His frame was not severely diminished; he was no longer the man he once was. I on the other hand, my body finally nourished after so long a fast, was growing. I was getting taller and my clothes tighter as my flat chest expanded, new muscles coursing into my arms and legs as they thicken and strengthen. My pecs now domed outward, and my arms are now shredding my shirtsleeves. My but and thighs shredded my jeans, and soon I was quite naked, minus a very tight pair of briefs. Finally, after Brad is done on his high, panting while leaning back on the counter. I stand up and we now face eye to eye. He still retained quite a build, but nothing like the godly one he had before. “Holy shit, what did you do to me John!” screamed Brad, now clearly panicking, backing away from me slowly. “I had my first course, Brad. Don’t worry; you still look like you have a second one in you.” I said, grinning sinisterly. Brad at once leapt for the door, but I grabbed him and tossed him like a rag doll onto the couch in the adjoining living room. Of course, I looked bigger and more muscular, my shredded clothes were absolute testament to that, but I’m always much stronger than any normal human being anyway, no matter my build. Leaping onto him I grab his smaller but still pretty thick cock, still hard and quivering, ready to be milked again. I latched onto it like a lamprey eel, and began to suck again, holding down his struggling body with one hand. I once again played up and down the surface of his cock with expertise, bringing him closer to the doomed orgasm. “God no! Please, stop this, let me go, John! I don’t want to be a weakling! I’m made to be a muscle stud!” Brad begged, pleaded and even cursed and screamed, with many variations and permutations. But I would not relent, I wanted it, needed it. I could feel him try to deny the coming orgasm, but my venom was just too potent an aphrodisiac to be denied. “NOOOOO!!!” screamed Brad, as he blasted his jockdom-fatal load. He began collapsing again as his hot, thick jock cum streamed down my throat, and I missed not a single drop. His average jock physique quickly became just average, as his pecs and biceps melted away. And not even a hint of traps above his shoulders, and his legs shrivelled. He had lost over a foot in height now, and his cock was shrinking even in my mouth, loosing inch after inch becoming less of a man-cock and more a boycock. Soon, his average physique transformed into the scrawny, as his muscle rapidly diminished to almost nothing, but his fat was still the same, however. Without the balancing effect of his muscles, now he was just a short flabby weakling. I could feel his now 6 inch cock was the last to complete its change, as it continued to shrink in my mouth, and his balls pull up. While his body was shrinking, mine was expanding, my chest grew ever more voluminous and my arms were like howitzers! My own body, devoid of fat, was tight and ripped, my abs deeply chiselled along my abdomen. My own cock, once a mere 6 inches, was now the 16 inch monster Brad once possessed, and my balls feeling engorged and enormous, the unaccustomed weight turning me on like nothing else. I was a beast, now. I had Brad’s build, but without the fat. My muscle now bulging, rippling and heaving, as I flexed for the frightened little rabbit that was all that was left of a once mighty jock. “So, Brad, how do you like me now?” I asked, in my deeper more manly voice, pulling a most muscular at him. He made a ghastly little strangled noise in his throat, too frightened to speak, but his hard 1 inch cock and quivering peanut balls told me all I needed to know. Grasping his shoulders, and marvelling at his now tiny frame was now in comparison to mine, I rammed my log of a cock deep as it would go into his throat. Brad struggled vainly against me, as I made him deepthroat my now enormous cock, enjoying the tightness of his throat, and now only 5 foot 4 inch body. As we fucked, his struggling ceased as he surrendered to our sex, and his little dick and balls shot a little dribble of cum of their own as I continued to screw him. Finally the tightness was just too much, and I couldn’t hold it. “FUCK!” I shouted, as I blasted thick ribbons of heavy cum into him, he squirmed a little again, but he ceased as his body rapidly swelled with new fat as my bull balls unloaded an endless current of cum into his body, his flabby frame swelling with each shot. I just kept cumming and cumming, Brad’s flabby body expanding in all directions, now no hint of his former self remained. Finally spent, I pull out of him and I collapse to the floor with a heavy thud, wheeling with the orgasm of our intense fuck. Resting for a few minutes, I got up and surveyed the gently jiggling tub of lard I’ve created out of a once muscular, thick football jock. His swollen formed rested on the sleek couch, a perfect juxtaposition if there ever was one. If I had to guess, Brad was about 300 lbs of pure flab, quite a lot for his frame. I smiled, and dressed in Brad’s old clothes, and quickly going to my room and fishing out some spare huge ones I had for whenever I was done feeding. Epilogue: After clothing Brad’s unconscious form and myself too, and carrying him effortlessly to my car, I drove Brad home to his dorm in silence, for he wouldn’t wake for a few more hours still. He wouldn’t remember what had happened, and I’d use my powers to make sure no one else would notice anything unusual either. I flexed my newly stolen muscle through my stolen shirt, admiring my pecs. I rub my hands along my abs, and begin to formulate the next item I think I should have on my grocery list. Heavy rain beat down onto the back road as I drove the sound mixing with the gentle noise of the Prius’s engine. I watch the wet autumn country road pass by, ochre red leaves swirling in the storm. “So it begins…”
  6. Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake: Chapter Two Cody was the biggest bro at campus, and he knew it. He was tired of the weakling sissies at the college gym, who wanted to 'get some muscle tone' but 'not become too big'. Cody very much disagreed: There was no 'too much'. There was no 'big enough'. Never too much! Never big enough! He had joined The Steel Factory gym outside campus, since it had got the heaviest free weights in town. As he had spread the reputation of The Steel Factory, some of the other students had also began to work out there: Jess, Jill, Jack. And Magnussen. And Tim. He pushed the heavy barbell in a focused and disciplined bench press, and he could feel his blood run to his chest, giving him a bloody awesome pump. Some strange greenish phosphorescent light shone in from the windows, and seemed to lit up the night outside the windows. And thunderclaps. Was it thunder? or northern lights? Or something. He returned to his workout schedule. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. It was rather close to some of the buildings belonging to Arts and Humanities: The archeology students, the literature students, the historians... The only drawback with the location of The Steel Factory was, that the gay street began around the corner, and one gay bar faced the entrance to The Steel Factory. Cody liked to draw attention, but he didn't like to draw attention of gays. He preferred to draw the attention of female students like Jess and Jill. Jess. He became angry again. Jess. She had been his girlfriend for six months. He remembered the scent of her blonde hair, and her enthusiastic screams when he pounded her. Shit. He got a boner inside his training shorts. Well, if anyone commented, they knew he would hit them. He didn't expect anyone to comment. He felt insulted, when he saw Magnussen – the reasonably brawny Danish exchange student – work out with Jess across the room, over at the rowing machines. One day, he would tell Magnussen his mind. One day, he would give Magnussen a real thrashing, and prove who's the Alpha on campus. Jill, the brunette studying pharmacology, was sexy in a shy way, and when she was drunk at a party, she had confessed, that she was turned on by muscle, and she had worshipped him behind a sofa. He wanted to go further with Jill. Or conquer Jess and leave Magnussen in a pathetic little heap of shit, but he had to admit, that Magnussen had a good constitution when he arrived in the beginning of the academic year, and he had to admit, that Magnussen had got some real gains, as the term had went on. Or, he fantasised, he could persuade Jess and Jill into a threesome with him, and leave Magnussen destroyed. Yeah, like a real Alpha. Four boobs on him. Four hands exploring his quads and pecs. Two pussies eager for his Alpha cock. It sounded like a road accident outside the gym. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack, on the other side, was a true friend. A real bro. Someone to rely on and trust. Fucking awesome stud, even if he hadn't got the same gains as Cody and Magnussen. If he and Jack had been gay, Cody had been willing to give head to Jack, but since they both now were straight as an arrow, that would never happen. Jill had called Jack and Cody 'a bromance' a couple of times, what that was supposed to mean. Everyone seemed to like Jack. Cody watched Jack help Tim over at the old fashioned pec-dec machine. Tiny Tim. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Cody couldn't understand why Jack had to drag that little runt to the gym. Tim's presence just delayed their training schedule. Even if he was beginning to get the knack of how the machines worked, Tim hadn't used the free weights much, and he didn't achieve any gains to speak of. Subcutaneous fat was not the problem: Tiny Tim's abs were already visible when Jack brought him to the gym the first time, but it seemed like the shy kid couldn't pack on any brawn. Fuck! The little shrimp was, what was it, 20? But he looked like a scrawny 16 year old. Tiny Tim was dragging Jack and Cody down at the gym, but Cody hadn't been able to persuade Jack to leave Tim at the dorm. Fuck the little bugger. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack went to fetch a glass of water, and left tiny Tim in the pec-dec machine close to Cody. He could hear commotion and kerfuffle downstairs and in the next room. A weird sound like a high-voltage electric current. It almost sounded like the women downstairs came. And men with deep voices having fun. Weird. Ought he to check out what was happening? The attention of everyone else turned to the entrance. Cody had a schedule to follow: Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. He returned the barbell to the rack. In the doorway into this room stood a man... a being... ...who would normally have seemed displaced, since he looked like something out of a sword-and-sorcery film. Normally, a muscular dude wearing a leather harness, a leather jockstrap, furs and boots would look camp and cheesy. Normally. The towering being that gazed at the gym members in the room was beyond normality and beyond everyday life: It exuded power – unlimited physical and supernatural power, and it knew it, as it watched the now shocked gym members. The short hair on its head was a sort of golden blond. Its steel-hard muscle mass bulged in all directions, arrogantly exposing its naked, sun-tanned flesh. It was surrounded by an overwhelming nimbus of martial virtue, masculinity beyond all limitations and an expectation to be obeyed by everyone. Its eyes were ice blue and commanding. Cody's mind began a silent insane ramble: YES! THAT was what he would like to achieve. He had aimed at the impossible: Though he was impressed by bodybuilders from the past, like Schwarzenegger who made all these cool old action films with bad special effects, and though he was impressed by modern mass monsters like Jay Cutler, Justin Compton and Dallas McCarver, he dreamed about going far beyond the results of these men, but he had never been able to visualise his ideal goals in any clear way. Now, the man... the Being... which stood in the doorway, looked like the embodiment of his innermost yearnings and most secret imagination. Cody shivered. Slowly, rational thought crawled through the throbbing, feverish and aroused revelry, which was his inner monologue: What was this man, this Being, this man-god doing at the gym? What was it doing here? How was this in any sense possible? Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Masculinity beyond all limitations. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Cody moaned. He could hear Jack letting out a yelp. Even tiny Tim moaned. The Being did a side-chest. The eyes of all present persons widened. The Being faced Jess and Jill. It made a suggestive thrust of its hips, and the sound similar to high-voltage electricity, that Cody had heard earlier, was repeated. Two currents of unknown and unholy energies emitted from the Being's crotch, zapped Jill and Jess between their legs, and the girls sank down on their training benches, their eyes rolled up in the skull, their bodies spasmodically twitching, and their mouths emitting feminine noises of excitement. The lights in the ceiling went out, but the dim light from outdoor street lamps fell in from the windows. The room became illuminated by a greenish, sort of, phosphorescent light. Cody felt hurt. He, not the Being, was the one who would take Jess and Jill to formerly unknown heights of pleasure. But at the same he was impressed. He wanted to be like the Being, to take part in its power, to share its essence. The Being waved its hand, and the gym disappeared. It felt like a dream. He was outdoors. It looked like a vast natural reserve, the sea not far away. Brooks running through the landscape with fish. Forests, but not very thick forests. Tall powerful men from the past in armed combat. Men like him, or, rather, men like he wanted to be. Loyal friends, protecting each other in battle. Hunters... Oh fuck! Hunters defeating large predators with large teeth with their bare hands... Alpha's of today looked insignificant to these men from the past. And then the sound of waves. Waves rolling in. A wave of water. A... that sort of... a wall of water, what's it called? A tsunami. He was back at the gym. By the look of their faces, his male friends all had seen the vision. Their female friends were still spasming on the training benches. "Men of the younger world." It was the first time the god-man Being spoke since its arrival to the gym. Its voice suited the way it looked: Deep, very deep, resonant. A battle cry and the promise of male voluptiousness. "Men of the younger world. I have shown you the glory, that once was Anghra-Lemur, but which is now The Sunken Hundred. I have returned over the gulfs of time and space. The powers of Anghra-Lemur are rising, and they will leaven the present world, and throw it away. I am the present embodiment of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur. I embody the power of thousand thunder gods. I embody the power of thousand sun heroes. Mine is the war frenzy. Mine is the battle cry. I fill brave men with duty. I fill the humble fighters with courage. I wipe the cowards and the evildoers away. I will allow Anghra-Lemur to rise again, because the time is at hand. But I need the raw material for the new men of Anghra-Lemur. I need those willing and those suitable, to become like the warriors of the forgotten time. My strength will permeate the chosen. My power will pervade the willing. My thew will saturate the suitable, and I will bestow upon them the divine powers of the forgotten god-heroes. I am Kortoth-Gnaah. I am willing to bestow all this." It seemed like all of the men were held under a spell, making it impossible to talk, only to think. The Being turned around, watching all of them. Cody's heart raced. YES! To hell with the bloody modern world. Some sort of Conan-world came crashing in. He couldn't comprehend how or why or what, but he knew one thing: He wanted to be in. Kortoth-Gnaah, wargod of Anghra-Lemur, watched Jack a few seconds. Then he stretched out his big hands in the direction of Jack. A green glow intensified around his hands, and then a powerful beam emitted and engulfed Jack in a sea of green, translucent, crackling power. Jack regained his ability to speak. "FUCK! So good! Can't believe it! Fuck! Look at me! My size! Growing! Can't believe it! Pump! Power! Pleasure! These biceps! Fuck! My traps, my back, my...! Oh! So good! Empower me, Master! Imbue me with... Nnnn. Fucking... Can't... Master... Growing..." Jack's rambling words turned into yelps, moans and grunts as he became taller, heavier and more muscled. Jack tensed, flexed, grew, his eyes staring in disbelief, and clothes from The Sunken Hundred materialising around him." Cody's heart was a sledge-hammer. Fuck, yes. Best friend. Jack. Bro. Becoming like a fucking Conan, a fucking He-Man... No! Far, far beyond those imaginary characters! Bro, becoming... Cody couldn't find words. And soon, Cody thought, it was his turn to receive the same blessing. He shivered. His cock throbbed. He was still pumped from the workout, and his antecipation was growing. Soon. Like Jack. Or The Being. Like Korgoth-Gnaah. Big. Big beyond measure. Jack was still growing beside the water vending, when Korgoth-Gnaah turned his attention to other parts of the room. Cody looked in disbelief, when Korgoth-Gnaah faced Magnussen. No? It couldn't be possible? Not the man who stole Jess from him. The green glow around Korgoth-Gnaah's big hands grew again, and a beam struck Magnussen, who began to grow in the same manner as Jack had done. Magnussen reverted to his native language, which sounded as a string of guttural sounds, which probably fitted the situation quite well. Fuck. He hadn't connected Danes and vikings before, but Magnussen was turning into – perhaps not what vikings actually looked like – but into the popular imagination about them. It wasn't fair. Not Magnussen! Not the one who distract Jess. Jess... She was returning to consciousness, and saw what happened to Magnussen. When the transformation reached climax, she ran to Magnussen, put her arms around his waist, pressed herself close to him, and shouted: "Fill me with your little viking babies!" He would have his revenge. Soon, very soon, their Master would turn his attention in Cody's direction, and he would have the same brutal power, the same strength, or even more of it, and he would show Magnussen who's the Alpha among the Master's housecarls. Soon. Korgoth-Gnaah turned around. He looked in the direction of Cody. Cody smirked. He braced himself. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, but he knew it would be better than anything he could imagine, if the behaviour of Jack and Magnussen was anything to go for. Soon. Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Soon. Steel-hard muscle mass bulging in all directions. Soon. He could see the green shimmer building up around Korgoth-Gnaah's big hands again, as he watched Cody. YES! MASTER! ME! SOON! Masculinity beyond all limitations. Soon! The green flames intensifying. Cody closed his eyes and smiled. Soon. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Soon. Cody swallowed, and braced himself for the incoming impact of the transforming, empowering rush of supernatural force. Soon. Nothing happened, but he could hear the familiar crackling sound of unnameable and unholy power in the air close to his bench. He opened his eyes. NO! Not tiny Tim! Not the shrimp. Not the scrawny hardgainer. Not the little runt. The little runt wasn't a little runt, anymore. A broad-shouldered behemoth bellowed in the pec-dec machine with his legs broad apart. Things didn't go as Cody had expected, and he fell into dark despair: An icy cold awareness arose that he wasn't one of The Master's chosen. Chapter Three is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13105-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-three/
  7. Professor Schnackenburg's mistake

    I dedicate this story to GiganticBeast, who asked for something similar to this: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter One He remember how Ms. Giraud had presented him to his former tutor, Assistant Professor Smith, in the past: "Mr. Schnackenburg – B.A., archaeology student and expert in the occult." They had both watched one of the Indiana Jones films recently, and Josephine ... Ms. Giraud ... already had a sense of humour he had found himself appreciating. Ms. Giraud! Jet black hair, intelligent gaze, great sense of humour. In Schnackenburg's opinion, she had thrown away her excellent talent for archaeology, when she settled for a purely administrative post at the Department for Archaeology. On the basis of the quality of her Masters thesis, she could have been one of the great names in the field, if she had published a PhD thesis. Nor could he understand her preferences, when it came to men. She had never married, and none of her affairs seemed to last or lead to anything enduring, but Schnackenburg had been invited to uncomfortable dinners with her so many times, encountering a string of her several boyfriends: A marine, a builder, a policeman, a sailor. Even a professional bodybuilder once. Not the typical consort to bring to formal university dinners. What was Josephine supposed to speak about with any latest fling? Not strontium analysis of fossil teeth, that's for sure. Hell! Some of these men had upper arms as wide as his legs! It was good for his career, that he had generally hid his personal interest in the occult: It wouldn't have been good for his reputation, if his membership in The Order of the Rosary Cube and Calix Gradalis had been publicly known. Who would trust the scientific rigour of someone, who spent hours in weird meditations? Though the meditation practices had been useful in order to reach heightened awareness, his scholarly sense of critical evaluation had always kept him suspicious of the baseless legends about sunken continents. We now know about plate tectonics: There is no place in real pre-history for sunken continents like Atlantis, or Lemuria in the Indian Ocean, or Mu in the Pacific. After his PhD, he had specialised in two fields: Mesolithic Europe and deciphering unknown scripts, and he now read Linear A, Indus Valley script and Easter Island script fluently. He had never thought, that these two fields would ever converge. The Doggerbank excavation changed all that. Even if he didn't dive himself, he was responsible for the entire project, and he gave the divers – some of them his postgraduate students – careful instructions how to avoid any damage to the finds. When Brock McGurgan, a good-looking blond Canadian student of his, returned to the surface with the tablets and the bronze sword, Schnackenburg understood, that something sensational was going on. It had now been three years since the Doggerbank excavation. He could still remember the scent of the salt sea and seaweed, and he could remember how the hair on his forearms turned into goosebumps when he saw the greenish-gold hints of bronze. He could still remember the sight of the broad-shouldered MacGurgan taking the diving suit off. Doggerland had been a lowland island (but not a continent) that actually was flooded and drowned in the North Sea between Scotland and Norway during the Stone Age, leaving Dogger Bank under the sea level. The hunter-gatherers of Doggerland were not expected to have known farming or metalwork, nor to have any script or alphabet. A bronze sword and stone tablets written with some sort of text turned all expectations on their head. It had now been three years. MacGurgan had assisted him in cleaning the stone tablets, and the lad felt like a son to him. Schnackenburg looked forward to read MacGurgan's PhD, which was soon expected to reach completion: Bronze technology in Doggerland Culture: A revaluation of the Atlantic period. MacGurgan's enthusiasm and cheerfulness lightened up hard work on pollen analysis or dendrochronology. Outside campus, Schnackenburg had once seen another side of MacGurgan, which was hard to reconcile with Schnackenburg's general impression of his student: A drunkard had knocked over MacGurgan's beer by mistake, and the student had over-reacted and beaten the culprit several times. It felt like a block of ice in his gut, when Schnackenburg recollected the image of MacGurgan's undoubtly handsome face disfigured in a grimace of unbridled wrath, his ice blue eyes burning. It was like he didn't know the promising young man he thought he knew so well. Schnackenburg dismissed the memory, and turned his recollection to the hard work and great assistance of MacGurgan in the work on the Doggerland Tablets, as they were now known. Schnackenburg had spent hours upon hours with the tablets. No key to the code. No Rosetta stone. Sometimes, in late hours after worktime it had felt like the tablets spoke to him with ghostlike hollow voices: Howlings of forgotten wraiths and souls adoring long-forgotten unnameable gods. He had checked the results again and again, and forwarded the PDF to MacGurgan, who anyhow wouldn't understand the real-life implication of the translation. Double checked. Triple checked. Was it really possible? Was it decipherable? Could it really mean, what he thought that it meant? "Archaeology professor and expert in the occult". His profession and his hidden hobby merged. The silence of the night hours turned into the sound of his pulse in his ears. Hissing. Throbbing. The city outside the window, lit windows in high rise buildings. Strewn with stars. The weight of millennia resting on his shoulders. Still some scent of seaweed, which didn't seem to go away from the tablets. * * * Brock MacGurgan worked late. He had a deadline on his PhD, and his assistance concerning the Doggerland Tablets took up a lot of his thoughts. Wouldn't it be amazing if Professor Schnackenburg really broke the code of the tablets? What if they were close to the solution? And the sword... There was something with the sword, that spoke to MacGurgan on a deep level. Heroes. Fights. Combat. Victory. Old myths of stormgods battling reptilian elder gods. Old myths of solar heroes protecting mankind. The sort of texts one would expect to find in ancient civilisations. He had seen the Professor staring at the tablets so many times, enchanted by the impossible finds. Similar to the way he himself became more and more deeply enchanted by the sword. Fights. Heroes. With hands covered in gloves, he had taken the sword out of its glass showcase. It now laid unprotected on his writing desk. Bronze sword. Fights. Heroes. Sword of Anghra-Lemur. Wait? Where did that word come from? He wasn't the poetical type of person who invented things, even if he had been an avid reader of sword-and-sorcery novels as a teenager, and watched the children's programme He-Man in primary school. ...Sword of Anghra-Lemur... Stop hallucinating. Stop imagining things. Probably best to stop working late. He needed some coffee. A ping in his computer. Better check it later. After the coffee. Brock MacGurgan took his baseball jacket and walked in the direction of the espresso machine. * * * Schnackenburg trembled. The translation must have turned his rational faculties into a mess. It couldn't be possible. But if it was? His instincts as a trained occultist screamed at him. To avoid the unhallowed relics of unnameable powers. To run. To put the tablets and the sword under lock and key. Or to use it. Use it to prove himself to Ms. Giraud... Josephine. The powers of sunken Doggerland... The powers of Anghra-Lemur! The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur! When he reached the glass showcase he stared in disbelief. Empty? But the only two having access to the sword were himself and MacGurgan? Frowning, he walked in the direction of MacGurgan's study. A bookshelf with standard works in archaeology. The Bell Beaker Phenomenon. Renfrew. Mallory. Svante Pääbo. Souvenirs from diving expeditions hang on the wall, beside a diploma from a Junior Men's Physique competition. A single task light was lit over the writing desk. The stump of a cigar was lying in an ashtray. MacGurgan's computer was working. The sword was there, but not MacGurgan. Schnackenburg felt as in a fever dream. He picked up the sword, and walked up the spiral stairs. * * * He really needed that espresso. MacGurgan returned to his study. He had to check that e-mail. He opened it. A PDF. A breakthrough. A hypothetical translation: He froze in his position. His blond hair tingled as of fear. He swallowed. He had imagined the word Anghra-Lemur before the e-mail arrived. An atmosphere of unreality lowered itself. Unconsciously and involuntarily he continued: The translation went on and on. The ancient Doggerlendings must have been a warrior culture, similar to the ancient Irish, the ancient Welsh and the Vikings. And they called their island or islands Anghra-Lemur. And the sword... MacGurgan looked for the sword. The sword was gone! MacGurgan had to calm down. What would he do? What would Professor Schnackenburg say? What would happen to his career? He had left the sword unsupervised. And it was gone! He lit a cigar to calm his nerves. No ancient item that could be harmed by the smoke anyhow. He tried to relax, and sat with his faded blue denim jeans in a wide manspread, his trainers resting on the floor. Deep breath. Some cigar smoke. Some espresso. The doors were locked. No one could enter. It was then he heard it. The impossible chanting sound from the spiral staircase leading to the tower room used for honorary social occasions. What in hell was going on? MacGurgan's worry began to turn into irritation. An intruder? Here? His archeological find? He rose from the chair. All his 6 feet 1 inches. He was still wearing his baseball jacket. Some nutcase had to be disarmed and handed over to the police. And Brock MacGurgan was just the right person to do it. * * * The dome gave the tower room a certain atmosphere, and the starry wisdom of the night sky looked down through the circular glass window over his head, but Schnackenburg was deeply in trance while he recited the more than 7000 year old enchantment, invoking preternatural forces which had been left slumbering for millennia. The scent of incense and the flickering light of the wax candles created a mood very far from the sherry imbibing receptions usually held in the tower room. Flickering light. Whisps of incense smoke. Shadows and starlight weavering into something unsettling and unspeakable. "Ye powers of blood and fang! Ye powers of brawn and brutality! Ye nameless ancestors of ancestor-warriors! Ye swordsmen who do not shun the name 'barbarian'! Servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, open ye the gates for the bloodstained war god of Anghra-Lemur, prepare the chosen vessel for divine power, let the ancient powers bestow their gift of prowess and might, as it was foretold! May the sinking of Anghra-Lemur be undone! May the white cliffs of Anghra-Lemur rise over the northen waves! May the last remnant of Atlantis return! May the last remnant of Lemuria the Ancient rise! May the unnameable powers assist me! I invoke Dagon!" One part of Schnackenburg was fully immersed in the powerful invocation. Something happened. The shadows in the room were more dense now. He could sense invisible eyes watching him. The stars shone intensely through the tower window, but not the stars of our time, but the bright night sky of an bygone, lost and forgotten age, far exceeding the 7000 years, that had gone since the sea level rose over Doggerland. Over Anghra-Lemur. Another part of Schnackenburg was silently screaming to him to stop. The dangers, if the invocation really worked, were unforeseeable, and only an insane man would try the attempt to force the elder powers. The cadences of primordial hymns and invocations of another aeon drowned any silent protest in his soul. Primordial hymns reaching out to creatures unknown to modern man. The third part of Schnackenburg's mind was ecstatically excited: He should prove himself to Josephine! He would intimidate any potential boyfriend she may have going for the moment. he would far, far exceed the prowess he secretly admired in young MacGurgan. He would become something beyond human limitations! He would... His pulse murmured and throbbed in his head. Something else throbbed inside his trousers. Arcane power began to tingle in his palms, as he stretched out his hands over the bronze sword on the table before him. Power streaming into the blade, renewing it, empowering it. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe his eyes. Professor Schnackenburg performed some sort of occult ritual in the tower room, and there was an eerie feeling spreading, more and more intensely. The cigar dangled in his mouth. The baseball jacket couldn't hide his fit – but not extravagantly big – chest. The rubber soles of his trainers caused a squeaking sound on the highly polished marble floor. He braced himself to do something, but the murmuring and droning sound of the witches' rune lullied himself into a trance-like state, and the translation, that had burned into his mind when he had read it on the computer screen, rose from the depths of his memory, as the forgotten creatures of Anghra-Lemur were rising from the maritime depths and the dark abyss of time. Soon, he and Schnackenburg were chanting in unison, and there was nothing MacGurgan could do to stop it. "I invoke Cthulhu! Intervene in dread! I invoke Shub-Niggurath, the goat with the thousand young! Spread the air of revel and ecstacy! I invoke Yog-Sothoth, who is the Key and is the Gate! Open the gulfs of time and space! Cause the powers of ancient Anghra-Lemur to return! May, on the chosen vessel, the powers descend: The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur!" MacGurgan was out of his mind now. He had a big lump in his throat. He felt very cold and very hot. His pulse was rising. Earlier in the evening he had been absorbed in wordless reverie over the Doggerland sword. It has spoken to him. It had allured to him. Beckoned to him. The sword of Kortoth-Gnaah. Schackenburg was unaware of MacGurgan's presence. "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" Schnackenburg was close to the brink of it now. The men of Anghra-Lemur would walk the earth again, and he would be the one who bestowed it to them: The ancient power of the war god. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" ... how the power of supernaturally endowed stone age warriors would course in his veins, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" The next moment, McGurgan snapped the sword away from the table, outside his tutor's physical reach. MacGurgan swallowed. When he came into physical contact with the cold and heavy bronze he could feel a tingling feeling spreading from it into his body. The hair on his head and arms bristled intensely. His eyes widened. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't... "Kortoth-Gnaah! KORTOTH-GNAAH! KORTOTH-GNAAH!" He bellowed the name of the war god, eagerly lifted his sword above his head, and the next second the power of the ancient gods streamed into him. Immaterial thunder bolts rushed through the window in the ceiling. Engulfed him. Absorbed him and formed him anew. Transmuted him. * * * Schnackenburg had been too immersed in the chanting, to react in time to MacGurgans unforeseen action. Staring in disbelief, he could see MacGurgan surrounded by supernatural power beyond imagination, and a cold feeling of fear paralysed Schnackenburg, when he realised, that the chosen vessel was someone else. Remorse, envy and admiration competed within himself when he watched his favourite student become something more than human. Exhausted and destitute of any remaining mental strength, he fell to the floor. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe it, but the being wasn't entirely Brock MacGurgan any longer, even if they still shared some memories and personality traits. His quads and hamstrings were filled by power from the forgotten Gulf of N'kai. Strength of thousand war gods, thousand thunder gods and thousand solar heroes was poured into his brawn, as if he had been a vessel, and this eager and willing vessel received the blessings, moaning and grunting as his brawn engorged all over his body: Veins spread, his biceps and triceps underwent undreamed hypertrophy, his trapezius deserved the description godlike, and he still expanded in every direction, now far exceeding the height of 6 feet 7 inches. He roared. He bellowed. He demonstrated his superiority to the mere human being who once had been his tutor. He watched the feeble creature: It wasn't worthy to worship him. He became immersed in visions of bygone Anghra-Lemur: Powerful men clad in hides strode over lowland plains proving their valour to each other in combat, and brutal hunters wrestled sabre-toothed cats and mammoths with their bare hands. Some of the same men were bestowed the strength of the gods, by the means once known in Lemuria and Atlantis. The power still accumulated within him. Filling him. Empowering him. Fire-mist descended. Fire-mist enveloped him. Fire-mist penetrated, filled and charged him. He became fire-mist. The immaterial flames of the elder gods reached into his soul, crushed his childhood memories into fragments, but out of the fragments and out of the collective memory of Doggerland, it formed something anew: No subcutaneous fat remained. His now bulging presence was cut and defined beyond imagination. Straps of leather materialised over his shoulders, and formed an X over his V-shaped torso. A leather jockstrap and some furs covering his glutes materialised out of thin air, and he realised that he was wearing pre-historical boots. A belt around his narrow waist carried a bronze buckle with the ancient seal of Kortoth-Gnaah. The thunderbolts increased in intensity. Physical heftiness filled him and became him. In the forge of the divine armourer aggression, dominance and lust melted into one, and he could feel his dick throb inside his leather jockstrap. The god of the barbarians walked the earth anew. The power was his. The might and the force. Brawn beyond comprehension. Mindless orgasmic bliss enrapt him when he felt his physical prowess, and he didn't know for how long he had been entranced. When he returned to any awareness of his surroundings, he watched the mortal on the floor. With a smirk, he performed a double biceps, watching the mortal on the floor. It moaned, spasmed, and a wet stain formed on its leg-clothes. Someone else entered the tower room. The dark silhouette of a woman against the light from the hallway. The mortal looked in her direction. "Josephine? What are you doing here?" "I was returning some files, when I heard thunder from the tower. I..." The female mortal fell silent. The vessel of Kortoth-Gnaah watched her in silence. Then he flexed his biceps again, thrust his hips in a suggestive way, and a current of power crossed the room, connecting the groin of the being and the groin of the female. She moaned loudly, and fell to the floor with a smile, unaware of her surroundings. The being didn't deign to behold any of the mortals, and left the town room. It was on a mission. It would let Anghra-Lemur rise again, and some selected few in this monstrous city of concrete, steel and glass were going to be transformed into warriors of the elder days. When it roamed the streets, it could absent-mindedly hear shouts in panic and rushing steps disappearing. It could hear transport vessels crash into each other, but it was of no concern. It needed the raw material suitable to become warriors of Anghra-Lemur. It found a night-open gym and a leather bar on the same street. It had found its raw material. Soon, the power of Kortoth-Gnaah would enrapt and transform them into suitable servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god Anghra-Lemur. The present world was doomed. The elder days would reappear in frenzy, mindless violence and voluptious pleasure. You will find Chapter Two here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13095-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-two/
  8. Magic isn't real (part 3)

    Of course I was waiting for you. Sorry – I can’t stick around too long tonight. I have to work some magic with some others – well, yeah, I know it’s not magic, but whatever. You know what I’m trying to say. Yeah it’s been fucking hot. The AC broke in this place last night and the bartender is trying to get it fixed. But I see the heat has prompted the move to basketball shorts? Ah, I see – look at you swagging and going commando. I see your treatments have been producing some results you like? I bet you still get hard every time you bump into anything or think about someone noticing your thickening manhood, huh? Let’s look at you, big boy. God – fucking – damn, look at you. Your monster is really coming along, isn’t it? You look at least five or six inches soft by now. Are you tender? That’s a lot of growth in these two weeks. Let me outline the head…aaaaand, there you go. Man, you get thick, don’t you? Pulling your shorts legs…man, look at those balls. You got them big, too, didn’t you? They’re probably also pretty damn tender. You can’t wear jeans because your cock and balls would be pushing out the front zipper, huh? Hmm, you orgasm already? Your dick is pulsing…oh, that’s just your pre? Shit. Your dripping on the floor and onto my sandals. Mmm…you smell good, too. You like what I’m giving off? More cock growth juice. The fact that it’s hot in here makes it even better – I’ve been pooling it on my skin and it’s looked like I’m sweating, but I’m not sweating that much. I can wipe it off with a towel and ring it into a shot glass for you? Oh, or you can do that. Jesus H. Christ, your tongue on my neck…fucking fuck. Ugh…not the nipples. Fuck. FUCK. You…tr…lick…all of…god… Feel you…fuck…even bigger…need release…. Please. Please. Let’s try the bathroom. Muscle boy Christian isn’t coming tonight. He said he’d come by tomorrow for a drink. Let’s visit the bathroom. I know it was just cleaned. -- Close the door and lock it. So, last time I told you I know ways to make changes happen really fast. Calm down. Let me explain first. You absorb best through mucus membranes. Your nose, your mouth. Your stomach. But a place that I have found does the best and fastest job is up your ass. The rectum is insanely vascular, which is why hemorrhoids is a real thing. And I get a direct shot at your prostate. Will it take me time? To what? Put the proper hormones into my cum? Please. I’ve been loading it up and abstaining from cumming for two weeks, ever since I started my project with you. Damn, boy, you look like you been practicing. Let’s just see if you’re ready for me… God fucking shit, you’re tight. Uhh…uh…uhh….mmm…your…mmmmmm…asshole…fuuuuuuuuuuuu…so tight…mmmmm… -- You…uhhhhhhhhhhh…ready? God, just…UUHHHHHHHH. FUCKING CHRIST FUCKING GOD FUCK. *breathes heavy* God your ass was so good. No, keep down that way. Let me admire my work. Plus you need to absorb it all, and fuck did I give you a load. I might have produced a monster with that one! My body? I’ll tell you about my body later. Yeah I think you might be fine. You’ll leak a bit but not that much anymore. You want it all to stick around. Like I said, I can’t stick around much tonight. Oh, you are still looking happy. Well, I guess if I gave you a present – fuck, I can’t grab your cock, it’s so goddamn thick – you owe me a milk shake, no? Heehee.
  9. Magic isn't real (part 2)

    Hey, I remember you...Jake, right? You came back, huh? Clearly you didn’t think I was full of shit last week. Yeah, I frequent this place a bit. Bad habit, but it lets me work some of my stuff. Make some people happy. So, clearly something made you believe me. What was it that I said I’d do? It’s been a week. Oh yes. I see it clearly now. Your cock. I’m still being too loud? No one in here is paying attention to what we’re saying. People come here to get drunk, not to eave’s drop. Calm down – I see you pants aren’t. So, let me guess. You left here after I did, wondering what type of bullshit I was selling. About…an hour or two after I left?...you started to feel a weird sensation. It was like you were in puberty again. That dull ache that seemed to be everywhere that you didn’t like then, and you don’t like now. Except you felt it in your balls. You started to have that feeling that your balls might be bigger, or something is going on in there. A day or two later, you probably were noticing that everything that bumped into you made your dick immediately hard, right? It was like being a teenager all over again. It was so horrible – but so awesome – you kinda wanted people to know that this was happening, but not in public. Let me also guess that you’ve been walking around all week, aware of your cock, but also thinking that your pants feel a bit tighter in the front. The wiggle room that you once had isn’t there any more. It’s not much, but it’s noticeable, amirite? Found yourself playing with your junk, pushing it around when you had those two or three moments of being soft, wondering to yourself if it’s all an illusion? Does it actually feel a bit thicker? Does it feel a bit longer? You don’t seem the type to measure yourself, but god damn you wish you started, huh? Am I making you hard, recalling the week? Let me keep going. Tell me where I’m wrong and how I was full of it. I’d bet that last night you went to bed and woke up to a bunch of spasming in your – well, how do you sleep? Boxers? Ok, felt some spasms in your boxers. Cum all over the place, no? Reminded you of entering puberty and having that first wet dream all over again, huh? Did you feel like the pulses were longer, harder, and thicker than normal? Did you find yourself cleaning yourself even more than usual? Yeah, I thought so. Let’s feel. Oh, damn, daddy: you starting to pack. Are you liking this stroking? You twitch every time I get near your thick head. Yeah, daddy, you like this. I’m curious what you’ll look like in an additional week? Can you imagine if this keeps going? Yeah, I’m still pouring those hormones out around you. You can smell them, can’t you? That desire to keep around me? You want me to grow you more. Ooo, your aggression is up, too. Yes, daddy, show me how much more of a man you are. Mmm. Oh, you wanted to see what I did to the other guy? He was here on Monday. I asked his number. Let me see…ah, he’s on his way. Would you like me to keep pushing yourself to see if I can get you to shoot your juice all over the place, right here, right now? No? Damn. Let’s give it another week. I have a feeling you’ll be impressed by my first experiment…to your knowledge… Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear. The muscle man comes in. I’m happy with how he’s dressed. Look at that tank top on him – do you notice those traps? They’re far more defined than they were last week, huh? See them actually pushing up towards his ears? And those delts on him – the V is far more defined on him, huh? Can you see the thickness separating the three heads of the deltoid? Damn. His thighs are filling out those shorts a bit more – I see his quads separating a bit. Nice bulge in the front too. What, I could have packed him as well. And…ah, I feel you’re getting hard again. *sniff* Hmm, I think you might be liking what you see? I smell you leaking “fuck me papi.” Am I right? Yeah, you feel like I’m right. Do you notice those biceps on him? Yeah, they look more defined than they did a week ago, huh? Notice how his tank is clinging more to this pecs. They’re rounder, aren’t they? They push a bit more out, don’t they? Doesn’t his chest look a bit wider? Maybe his waist is a bit tighter, or maybe its his chest slightly larger? Yeah, you don’t get that in lifting in a week. You get that if you lift for a week, like a mother fucker, and you have some superior genetics going for you. I think I need to give him some more, don’t you think? Oh, you want to join me in talking to him? Sure. Jake, meet my young muscled friend, Christian. Christian, Jake. How are you doing? You look like you’re hitting the weights a lot more. May I feel your guns? I’m kind of a muscle queen. I gotta feel power. Damn. What are these up to? 14”? You look like you’ve been packing onto your arms a lot in the past few weeks. And those veins! Sorry – it tickles – but tracing your veins is just amazing. Shit, you feel solid. Damn, I must be nervous – muscle does that – cuz I’m getting sweaty around you. Sorry, I sometimes smell a bit…yeah, TMI, no? I don’t wanna eat up too much of your time. Just wanted to say hi and introduce you to Jake. I’ll probably see you around. Clearly the beer here does the body good. So, what did you think of Christian? Yeah, I was having a hard time not wanting to touch that chest. You saw those nipples pointing through the tank, huh? Made you want to run your hands on them, under them, squeeze them? Oh, look: he’s turning around. He’s clearly been also working his ass. It’s starting to form that nice bubble, don’t you think? Yeah, he swings your way. I’d imagine that that butt would be a hard thing to split open. Yes, I see your thicker sausage stretching again. Does this talk get to you? You seem to be leaking – yeah, I see your pants, right near your hip…damn. Could you imagine bending Christian over, feeling that broadening back leading to that slender waist, shoving that thick cock of yours into him? Do you think you push harder than his ass could resist you? I’m wondering. You’d like to try? The bartender here keeps the bathrooms clean. He’s pretty good, and as long as you don’t make a mess, he’s fine with you trying out the bathroom with Christian. Haha, you will? I’ll just be here. I’ll wait. … Damn, that was, how long? Shit, that smile on your face. I see Christian hasn’t come back yet…oh, he’s going to have trouble walking? Well, no shit Sherlock, you were in there for half an hour. Was his ass as glorious as we could guess it to be? It was? Fuck. How many ways you fuck him? Six? Shit. I see you’re still hard at the thought of him – feeling hornier than usual, eh? Yeah, I’ve been loading you with more hormones. It’s gonna make you harder, thicker, longer, hornier, and full of so much more cum…yeah, you’re leaking again. Well, go get him. I’m sure he hasn’t moved too far from where you bred him. Shall I see you again in a week? I’m sure you’ll have plenty to show off. Ok. I’ll see if I can make your little muscle boy even bigger for you. I have my ways.
  10. Preface Dear muscledrain, You wanted a magic switch of brains and brawn. I could have chosen to make the protagonist a black-metal kid called Moonsorrow Bloodpain, who invoked Cthulhu, or something similar, to facilitate the magic, but then both himself and his recently muscular friend would eventually have been eaten by unnamable and eldritch primordial spacegods of the elder days, and – as I understood your story idea – you expected something slightly more feelgood than that. But which sort of magic would be feelgood? Classical gods from Greece and Rome transforming mortal men is a story idea already used several times over at Metabods (Dionysus and Mars, if I remember correctly), so that idea was already taken. It then struck me, that some people out there IRL believe in a sort of magic Moonsorrow Bloodpain definitely would shun: Hoodoo – which is a mix of native Congolese religion, Protestantism, Dutch folklore, Catholicism (since the 1960’s) and slight traces of renaissance esotericism. It would probably be feelgood enough. But then another dilemma emerged: Which red-blooded, sports obsessed young male in a predominantly Agnostic environment would get the idea to even ask an eccentric and mysterious hoodoo lady for help? I then realised that bodybuilding and martial arts are very popular among young Syriac men, and that they – however laddish they are indeed – often have an honest respect for the saints. I have also observed that a lot of MMA fighters like to wear rosaries. Some of my former neighbours are Syriacs – very nice and friendly people with a flair for making good food. This is the way one of the protagonists was invented. I want to thank sithspawn, CardiMuscleman, mrk78, yourself, and some others for very valuable linguistic and stylistic advice. To write in a foreign language is full of potential errors. Any remaining errors are my own fault. Just as Northern Americans (and I don’t mean Canadians and Bahamians at the moment) let their Muscle Growth Stories take place in the US (or in a fictitious country identical to the US when it comes to educational system and cultural patterns, such as sports scholarships, pompoms, American football and resident colleges), I will, as a Swede, let the following story occur in a fictitious country with an educational system and cultural patterns indistinguishable from the Swedish ones: an academic year consisting of two semesters (not three terms), no school uniforms, pupils/students living at home with their parents at least until the age of 19, mixed social backgrounds at many (but not all) schools, and Agnostics observing Christian holidays. The difference between working class and middle class is probably more subtle and fluid over here than in other parts of the world – at least that was my impression on vacation in UK and Italy. The city in the story is, however, a city that never was. It will be futile, if any other Scandinavians reading this will try to figure out exactly where the story takes place: Everywhere and nowhere. The spelling of surnames have been anglicised. That wasn’t, however, necessary with the first names, which could pass for many nationalities just as they are. Comics readers: Look out for the easter egg. I hope you will have fun! With a little help from magic Chapter One The cold wind pushed the red and yellow leaves over the schoolyard with a rustling sound. The sky was grey. Inside the sixth form brick building, lockers were clattering, and the sound of many voices blended into a tiresome murmur. Feet swiftly hurried to lecture rooms. John had put his rucksack in his locker, and was taking his chemistry book out, when he heard a disturbingly familiar voice behind him: ’Isn’t it Swotter? Oi! Swotter, I’m speaking to you!’ The eighteen-year-old closed the locker, and tried to look in another direction. Sometimes it worked. ’Look at me, when I’m talking to you!’ A hand on his shoulder. A foot behind his heel. Suddenly, John found himself on the floor and the chemistry book a few metres to the left, between another row of lockers. It was Peter and his friends. As usual. Peter and his little crowd of followers had made primary school, secondary school and two years of sixth form a living hell for John, and there was no sign that anything would change, until John left for university in another city and Peter’s gang left school most likely in order to face unemployment. Peter put his black cowboy boot on John’s chest. Like his chums, Peter had enthusiastically embraced the 50’s revival when it became fashionable, and they all tried really hard to look like exaggerated stereotypes of 50’s rockers. Most of them wore black leather jackets, unbleached denim jeans, and white T-shirts or plaid shirts, and they had put some gunk in their hair and combed it in a 1950’s style. Unlike some of his friends, Peter hadn’t been able to afford a leather jacket, so he wore a cheap denim jacket instead, and had sewn a Confederate flag on it, in the belief that ’that was very rock’n’roll’. ’Is that an army jersey, Swotter? Considering joining the forces?’ John felt embarrassed. If he kept silent, it would just go on. If he answered, the result would be identical. ’It is a hunter’s jersey.’ ’We didn’t know you were hunting! Did we, lads?’ ’I don’t, but I take photographs of rare birds. The jersey protects from cold weather.’ ’Scared of blood, I see. It wouldn’t be a good idea to join the army then? Would it, Swotter?’ ’I said it isn’t an army jersey. Ouch!’ Peter had moved his boot to John’s Adam’s apple. ’Listen very carefully. If I were you, I wouldn’t insult our brave boys in green by wearing that jersey, whatever you call it. Now take it off!’ ’But… Ouch!’ Peter increased the pressure on John’s Adam’s apple, then removed his foot, and came closer to John, sitting in a squatting position. Peter grabbed John’s jersey, and minuscule stains of spit rained on John’s face when Peter shouted. ’Now, you little pansy, you take that jersey off – either putting it in the cafeteria garbage bin or giving it to Anderson here. He deserves it better than you. Isn’t that right Anderson?’ Anderson, a blond football player, about the same length as John, but considerably more athletic, had been a henchman of Peter for years. He had a smug grin on his face. ’And what do you think you are doing, you friggin’ racist?’ Peter and his friends had to turn around. John rose from the floor, dusted away spots of sand from his clothes, and looked for his chemistry book. The newcomer who had spoken was Simon, the tall leftie intellectual from the other science class. Peter leered at him. It seemed that he had met Simon before. ’Don’t meddle, Simon. This isn’t your concern.’ ’Sure it is. Yesterday, you and your gang bullied Aram’s little brother and neighbour. But after what I can see today, you like to bully anyone, regardless of origin. Ridiculous greasers!’ John adjusted his eyeglasses, and now saw that Simon wasn’t alone. He had brought Aram, the brawny Syriac hockey guy, and Carl, the anti-racist skinhead, with him. Although Peter and his friends outnumbered Simon and his friends with five to three, Peter sized up his opponents a few seconds. Although not very muscular (but rather on the slim side), Simon was tall, and it was well-known at the school that he had practiced kung-fu, before his deep commitment in the Anarchist Student Society, Amnesty International, the local melocore club (and a handful of other associations) had limited the time available on exercise. Two years ago, Simon and John had served together in the Student Council, and John had appreciated Simon’s wit. Carl was shorter than Simon, but taller than Aram. He spent some time at the gym, but not as strictly and devotedly as Aram obviously did. His shaved head gave him an aggressive demeanour, and that impression was enhanced by the gauge in his earlobe, his snug fitting maroon polo shirt, the blue braces that contrasted well against the maroon background, the bleached jeans, and the extremely well-polished, heavy and steel-capped boots on his feet. His black Alpha bomber jacket was covered with patches and pins: ’Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice’, ’The Oppressed’, ’The Burial’, ’Operation Ivy’, ’FC St. Pauli’. He oozed of angry adolescent masculinity. Aram was of average height, but more broad-shouldered than any of the young men. He had an innately muscular constitution, and had been in good shape already during his time in the hockey team. When he left secondary school, and began his sixth form education, he had left the hockey team in order to take up martial arts of some sort, and also joined a gym. He now looked like a bodybuilder without any body fat, and moved like a tiger: A very broad shouldered tiger. During their entire time at school, Aram had always been so absorbed by exercise, that he never noticed if bullying occurred somewhere around him. If Aram had begun to spend time with a decent guy like Simon, it was probably a step in the right direction. After eyeing his opponents, Peter ordered his crowd to leave. ’Everything alright now?’, Simon asked. ’Yes. Thank you for helping me.’ ’To be honest, it was just a coincidence, but I am glad that we could be of assistance. Aram here is beginning to develop a social conscience by hanging with me and Carl, aren’t you?’ Aram mumbled something, and looked down into the floor. ’I’m late to the student newspaper meeting. Later.’ Simon disappeared around a corner. Carl had to leave his bomber jacket in his locker, and was on his way to a math lesson, but Aram was scheduled for the same chemistry class as John. They were late. ’You both know that late arrival will affect your grades. It will perhaps not concern you very much, John, but in your case, Aram, I would be worried.’ It was Mr. Gustavson, the chemistry teacher, known for his sardonic personality, and secretly nicknamed ’Snape’ among the students. ’As I said before you arrived, you have to team up in pairs and study how a primitive form of plastic is produced. It is a very simple example of how polymers behave.’ ’It seems like we have to lab together, today’, John said shyly. Aram didn’t speak very much while he assisted John, but, despite their late arrival, they were the first among the students to achieve a nice cylinder of plastic in a test tube in the end of the lesson. That gave Aram an idea. * * * It had been a few days earlier, during the Sunday church lunch at the Orthodox church of St. James’. ’Ameen. Moryo nqabel qurbonokh, wlan n’adar bashlawothokh.’ The last prayer in the extremely ancient Aramaic-speaking Christian liturgy ended, and the congregation left the room, kissing the Gospel Book at the entrance, and receiving pieces of non-consecrated bread. There were old ladies in mantillas, old men in their three-piece Sunday best, lots of parents with children, a dark-eyed and doe-eyed girl’s choir in choir dress, and a bunch of young men slightly younger or older than Aram. The last group was the most noisy one, and the lads were joking and playing with each other. Most of them wore jeans, expensive jerseys and shirts, but a few of the oldest ones wore suits, and some of the younger ones were dressed in tracksuit pants and hoodies. Most of them were dark haired and wore a lot of hair gel, but some were buzzcut, and two of them were redheaded. Many of them wore sturdy golden chains around their necks, from which crucifixes or the Syriac nationalist symbol of a feathered archer hang. Some of the attendees immediately left the parking lot, but most stayed inside for the Sunday church lunch. A buffet was prepared: Bulgur mixed with roasted noodles, tabbouleh – a salad of parsley, couscous, tomatoes, onions, garlic, mint leaves, lemon and olive oil – and several smaller bowls filled with falafel, dolma, chickpea sauce and eggplant sauce. Aram sat down with his mother, his uncle and his aunt. His mother was putting her folded mantilla in her purse, now when she no longer stood inside the consecrated room. ’Listen Aram’, uncle Benjamin began, ’there is a thing your mother and I have been talking about.’ Uh, uh. Now it comes again. Aram felt tired of this. His uncle meant well, but it felt like he was picking on him. ’Before your father died, I promised him, that I would help you become a doctor, just like your father and your grandfather. We have talked about this before: You have to achieve better grades, otherwise you will not be able to study medicine.’ A steel grey lady in her sixties approached the table. Mother and aunt Layla rose, gathered around her, and began to discuss with her in the old language. Aram wasn’t good at the old language. He was born in the new country, and spoke its language without any accent. ’Your mother and I are worried about you. The medical trade is a family tradition, but your grades have not been good the last years.’ ’But you are not a doctor. You own a grocery shop.’ ’This discussion is not about me, young man, but about you. If you begin medical studies, I promise to help you financially, but if you don’t, you can’t expect any money from me for university.’ * * * It was a day later. Aram and his girlfriend Emma entered the room for the history lesson. ’Hi, Emelie!’, Emma shouted, and claimed a chair close to her friend Emelie. Emma and Emelie didn’t at all have the same preferences when it came to style, but were friends anyhow. Emma was a blonde young woman with black high rise slim fit jeans and a yellow top which revealed some of her cleavage. Her shoes were yellow Converse. Emelie, on the other side, had dyed her hair black, and wore a black dress with a lot of lace. Around Emelie’s neck hang several pendants of different sorts: A cross, a star of David and a pentagram. She didn’t discriminate between religions, but it was also possible that she didn’t care very much for what the symbols signified for other people. Aram looked around, and when he found that the chair close to John was empty, he sat down beside John. ’Hello again. Do you mind if i sit here?’ They both unpacked their laptops, and had to end their chat, since their history teacher, Mr. Johanson, had began to talk. Mr. Johanson was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and didn’t have many years left until retirement. He always wore black jeans, a sleeveless pullover and a tweed jacket. Unlike the younger male teachers, who dressed less strictly, he always had a tie knit around his neck. His hair was white and slightly receding. ’The world events of the 20th century, would probably had been very different, if World War One hadn’t occurred. The stern conditions of the peace treaty of 1919, caused many Germans and Austrians to feel disproportionally and unjustly punished, and that prepared the way for Hitler and the Second World War. For the British Empire, the end of the war initiated the slow devolvement of the empire: The Irish Free State was declared in 1922, and in 1931 dominions – such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland, South Africa and the Irish Free State – were defined as ’completely self-governing’. Some sorts of constitutional reforms would probably have occurred in Russia anyhow, but not necessarily in the revolutionary Bolshevik way it now did: Don’t forget that the February Revolution in 1917 was about limiting the power of the Czar constitutionally, and preparing the way for free elections, general suffrage and civil liberties. The Bolsheviks didn’t grab the political power until October, and would probably not have reached the necessary level of initial popular support, if the Russian people hadn’t been exhausted by three years of warfare. The war also caused USA to change the way it behaved in international politics. During the 19th century the Monroe doctrine had isolated the US from international politics, but – with the exception of the Philippine-American War about a decade before World War One – the US had until then avoided entanglement in any conflict far beyond its own borders. From a certain point of view, the Philippine-American War and World War One, became templates for what later happened in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The history of the 20th century is impossible to understand without World War One as the background. When we now begin to look closer…’ John felt good sitting so close to the big and warm lump of muscles. John hadn’t thought much about it before, but became now aware of the warm brown colour of Aram’s eyes, like brown gemstones reflecting a golden light. Aram emitted a nice scent of some sort of anti-perspirant, but probably not an expensive one. The presence of Aram made him feel comforted and protected. Aram had never or seldom preferred to sit beside John before, so this was something new. The lesson had ended. ’John, you are really smart. Would you possibly help me with homework? I want to get better test results, and who better than you?’ ’We could have begun this years ago, if you just had asked. Which day would be best for you? I often go by bus to Willow Lake in Thursdays. Wildlife photography, you know. And I suppose you exercise very often. Which day would be best for you?’ They agreed to keep Tuesdays open for study together. Emma approached them. ’You must hear this, Aram! Emelie has found such a cute shop with books and magic candles and stuff, and I could probably have my horoscope done. Isn’t it amazing? You must follow me and Emelie to that shop after school!’ * * * The following afternoon, Emelie, Emma and Aram got on the tram, and went to a picturesque part of the city Aram seldom visited. They left the tram at a stop just outside a Neo-gothic church building called Holy Trinity, and then followed a narrow and meandering, cobblestone paved alley on their way to the shop Emelie had mentioned. The houses were small and old here, but some of them seemed to have been restored recently, as an effect of ongoing gentrification. Withered roses and dark green ivy covered some of the exteriors. They passed by a tailor’s shop, a vegetarian restaurant, a dentist’s clinic and a former – now closed – bicycle workshop. A few of the buildings seemed to have been turned into homes very recently – which was easily recognised through the fresh plaster in yellow, lavender or dove blue colours, but other buildings were still shabby, some of them derelict. ’Here it is.’, Emelie announced. Aram got a first impression of the shop. He had definitely not seen it before. Grey stairs of stone led downwards to a door under street level. Two rather small shop-windows before his knees announced: Madame Cremorna. Books. Herbs. Readings. It felt a little bit spooky, but Emelie enthusiastically led them downstairs, and opened the door. A bell tinkled. The first thing that he noticed was the scent. The fragrance of many sorts of herbs and incenses mixed with each other. He felt awkward again. This wasn’t the sort of place a masculine guy like himself was expected to frequent. Wasn’t there something slightly feminine or gay about this scent? He considered to leave immediately, but that could make Emma mad at him. He didn’t want that. The second thing he noticed was the broad mix of things in the room. This was not just a book shop. The books were there, for sure – he saw a rotating stand with them: How To Earn Money By Positive Thinking. The Dolphins Speak: Telepathic Messages From Our Cousins In The Sea. The New Age Of The Flying Saucers. It could have been an ordinary New Age shop, but he could also see tin boxes with herbs, packets of soap or dry foodstuff with Spanish labels, shelfs with incense sticks and small jars with the sort of incense grains he was able to recognise from church. His association to church was increased, when he found shelves carrying a large number of glass encased novena candles with stickers depicting saints. Some of them he could recognise, but, with his family background, he was more familiar with Eastern saints than Western, and the identity of some Western saints on the candles were undecipherable. The cash register stood upon a glass desk. Inside the desk he could see decks of cards in many shapes. He hadn’t seen any cards like these before. ’How do you play poker with these?’, he asked Emelie. ’They are not for poker, stupid.’, she answered, ’They are divination decks, for reading the future’. ’I am not sure I believe in that.’, Aram replied. Just now he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed. There was an eerie feeling in the shop. He wanted to get out. ’You are free to believe in anything you want. We are all responsible for how we use our freedom, and it is unwise to go against your own conscience.’ The alto voice vibrated with a rich timbre. It belonged to a woman in her early sixties. She had probably looked good during her younger days, and she obviously still cared about her appearance. Her hair was black, without any traces of silver in it yet, and she was dressed in a rust-coloured dress and a dark grey vest of wool. Around her neck hang a tin pendant depicting a very complicated geometrical pattern. In her younger days, she could have been a hippie. ’I’m sorry lady, but I can’t believe in telepathic dolphins and flying saucers.’ Aram waved in the direction of the rotating book stand. ’To be honest, I am not at all impressed by these books myself, but some of my customers ask for them, so I sell them. It pays the rent.’ There was a slight, possibly American-English, accent when she spoke, but very faint. ’So you don’t believe in the supernatural, yourself?’ ’Oh. I do! But that depends on what you call supernatural. If you mean telepathic dolphins, saucers, physical trolls or god-kings inside a hollow Earth, I do not believe in the supernatural.’ Emelie was studying the card decks inside the glass desk, but Emma stood by Aram’s side, hugging his arm. ’You are into sports, I suppose?’, the shop keeper asked him. ’Aram was a hockey player for many years.’, Emma answered proudly. ’And now I work out and practice martial arts.’, Aram continued. ’Then the psychology of sport can’t be unknown for you.’, Madame Cremorna said, ’And you surely must have experienced, how your own mind affects your physical achievements?’ ’Well. Yes. But that’s not supernatural.’ ’It is anyhow a part of scientific reality which borders to the supernatural – that is, supernatural in the sense I use the word.’ Aram was on his way to answer, but the shop keeper continued: ’And you belong perhaps to the Assyrian Church?’ Aram smiled: ’Close enough, but you were wrong there: I belong to the Syriac Orthodox Church. The Assyrians are our cousins.’ ’And you believe in God? And in angels? And in saints?’ ’Well. Yes, I do.’ ’The supernatural I believe in is about God, about angels, about saints, but also about sports psychology. It is admittedly not a complete description of what I do – far from it – but it seems like we are able to agree about a major part of it, anyhow.’ She was silent a few seconds. ’And what are you looking for? Books? Devotionals? Cards? A horoscope? Or do you want me to use magic for some purpose?’ ’We are just looking. Emelie told us about your shop, and it is just adorable’, Emma answered, ’but it looks much more Catholic than the other New Age shop on the other side the canal.’ Madame Cremorna smiled. ’It’s perhaps because it is not a New Age shop. Not in the general sense. It is inspired by botanicas of the sort common in Florida, where I grew up. We had a lot of Cubans and Puertoricans there.’ ’Have you lived in this part of the world for a long time?’ ’Quite a long time. Yes. My former boyfriend thought it was a good idea to move to Northern Europe a few years before the end of the Vietnam War.’ Emma continued to chat with the shop keeper for several minutes. Emelie still looked at the decks. Aram began to wander around in the shop. A square diagram with twenty-three arcane symbols hang on a wall. Bookshelves contained titles such as Three Books on Occult Philosophy, The Enchiridion, Selected prayers by Allan Kardec, and The Long-Lost Friend. A burgundy-coloured curtain covered door opening to an inner room. Curiously, Aram peeked inside. Several small tables were pushed up against the walls, covered with cloths in different colours. Candles were lit, scented in several different ways. The air was sweet and heavy. ’Uh oh. The inner sanctum is only open for some customers.’, Madame Cremorna said, where she stood behind his back. Aram blushed. ’I didn’t mean to do something wrong. Sorry, lady.’ When they left the shop, Emelie brought a recently bought tarot deck, and Emma carried a folder with her personal horoscope. * * * It was two days later. The bell tinkled in the usual way, when the door to the shop opened and closed. ’And what do you want, young man?’, she asked. ’I haven’t done well in my exams. I want to be sure my grades are good when I finish Sixth Form.’, Aram said. ’And when is that? If I hadn’t first met you with that young gothic girl and her friend, I would have guessed that you were older than a Sixth Form student.’ She eyed him knowingly. ’The last semester ends in June next year.’ Her face expressed mixed emotions: Pity, astonishment and a slight amount of aunt-like cunningness. ’Magic works normally through natural means, and natural means works slowly. A lesser working could have been enough, if you had asked me a year ago, and backed the magic up with real effort in class. But now, with just eight months…’ She didn’t end her sentence. There was a sad expression in Aram’s eyes, reminiscent of a very large, but very young and sad, puppy. The element of pity in Madame Cremorna’s eyes became more prominent. ’Let us discuss natural means first. You would probably learn more, if you do homework together with someone in your class, who’s got a talent for study.’ ’I already do.’ Aram told Madame Cremorna all about John. ’You have got a good new friend in him. Be nice to him.’, Madame Cremorna said. ’Homework with John helps, but not enough, and not fast enough. And I wish I could make mother and my uncle proud. But if you can’t help me…’ ’If something of what I do works, it is not because I have helped you, but because God has answered the prayers of several beings. Some call it magic, but ultimately all things and events comes from The Supreme Being anyhow. The ways and the means and the chains of events may vary, however. Or so is the way I see it.’ ’But you said, that I should have asked a year ago?’ ’I said, that a lesser working could have been enough then. With only eight months until graduation, I have to do a greater working, but only if you are ready to pay the price.’ ’I don’t own very much, but…’ ’I don’t talk about money. I talk about the willingness to choose talent for study before anything else. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I will give you a reading.’ ’A reading?’ ’Just relax.’ She opened a purple bag of velvet, laid a pack of cards on the table, and mumbled a prayer. Aram couldn’t hear the words. She let him shuffle the cards, and then put three cards on the table cloth. The first card depicted a knight in armour, sitting on a horse. The second card depicted an old man with a beard, clothed in some sort of mediaeval brown gown, holding a staff with a snake – similar to the symbol sometimes used by hospitals and chemists – and holding a lantern in the other hand. By his feet lay a scythe and a hourglass. Far away, the presence of an owl could be distantly hinted at. The third card depicted a young man in renaissance clothes, carrying a round plate, smaller than a shield, but larger than a coin. From his bag a scroll and a quill pen peeked out. ’Hmm…’ Madame Cremorna didn’t say much for a while. Suddenly, she gathered all the cards into the deck again, and began shuffling. She laid the deck on the cloth, and pushed it over the table. ’Here. Shuffle, and think intensely about your friend John.’ Aram did what he was told to do, and gave her the deck again. ’That was all for today. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I will tell you if I have found a way to help you.’ Aram felt a little bit disappointed. It had been stupid of him to come here, to begin with. He shrugged and left. When he had left, Madame Cremorna again lay three cards on the table. She was rather surprised to find the knight and the squire from the last reading come up again, but this time with reversed places: The squire with the plate to the left, and the knight with a sword to the right. The card in the middle was not the same. Where the card with the old bearded man had laid a few minutes ago, now lay a card depicting a half naked and extremely muscular man clothed in the skin rug of a lion. He had left his heavy club on the ground, and was breaking a stone pillar in two halves. Madame Cremorna remained almost expressionless, but one of her eyebrows twitched. She had got an idea. When Aram returned the next afternoon, he expected bad news. The shop keeper seemed, however, to be in a good mood, although perhaps mixed with an amount of harshness. She put two class encased candles on the desk. ’You are young. I will not let you pay the full price I charge an adult with full time salary. But you must be aware of the consequences of your request. Are you willing to let your friend become less talented, while you increase your own study results?’ ’Isn’t that black magic?’ Aram felt a chill on his back. He would probably not have asked for this, to begin with. ’I never accept black workings. I accept grey ones, however. Most human wishes rests in the grey area. The born-again nonconformist who prays to God for promotion at work, the churchman praying for a happy marriage, the white light Neo-pagan sending away a spell for fair weather at the picnic – all their wishes are tainted by a certain amount of selfishness. And so is yours. All of them are mixed with good intentions. And so is yours.’ ’But I can’t rob John of his intelligence. It is not fair.’ ’That depends. A greater working will affect reality on a deeper plane. In a sense, you will have switched – or better, mixed – destinies with each other. I have tried to conjure good destines over both of you, but you will still have to pay the price of tampering with destinies.’ ’Not my soul?’, Aram asked bleakly. ’Then I refuse.’ ’No, not your soul. I do not dabble in diabolism. Actually, I have fought against the minions of darkness on several occasions. But a greater working, affecting the threads of destiny, will take its toll from the one who ordered it, quite soon after the commencement. We are all responsible for our actions. Do you really want a talent for study?’ The question hung in the air for a moment. It cannot have been for a longer time than a second or two, but for Aram it felt like time stood still, like if a gigantic pendulum in an ancient clockwork was swinging over his head. It was still time to thank her for her willingness to help, but refuse to go further. ’Yes. I really want it. Just be sure that John will be happy.’ ’No-one can be one hundred percent sure, but I have reason to believe that he will enjoy the turn of events that will unfold, as well.’ ’Ooo-key? Well, then I suppose there will be no problem? What are the candles for?’ She pointed at one of the candles. It had a card on it, depicting a man in a bishop’s mitre, writing on parchment with a quill. He was surrounded by bookshelves. ’This is St. Isidore of Seville. You will take this home, and burn it nine consecutive Wednesdays until it is all burned away. St. Isidore wrote one of the first encyclopaedias in the world, and was recently designated the patron saint of internet.’ She pointed at the other candle. The card on it depicted a broad shouldered and bearded giant carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulder. ’This is St. Christopher. In the legend he was a giant who converted to Christianity. In reality, we don’t know very much about him, but the moral of the legend is edifying anyhow.’ ’What am I supposed to do with that candle?’ ’Give it to your friend John. If he don’t want to burn it every day or night, let him burn it whenever he likes. Tuesdays would be good, however.’ * * * It was Tuesday again. According to their new habit, John was helping Aram to study. ’And what am I supposed to do with this?’, John asked, curiously holding the glass encased prayer candle. ’You know that I am an Agnostic, don’t you?’ ’Some people burn it because they like how it looks or because they like the scent. It is just one month left until Advent, isn’t it?’ Shall I tell him about it? Aram thought intensely, and felt divided. To tell him the truth. But if he became angry and refused to help anymore at study time together? John was helpful. It would be awful if something terrible happened to him. But Madame Cremorna had said that he would enjoy what was happening, whatever that was. ’But isn’t it a little bit girlish, don’t you think?’ ’Not among my relatives. It is quite common that lads wear saint pendants, for instance.’ ’Yes. Now when you mention it, I have seen some of your martial art friends wearing rosaries, and I can’t accuse them for being girlish.’ The tension disappeared when Aram began to laugh. ’No, you can’t. At least not if you don’t take into account the time they spend in the bathroom, but so do I.’ ’Well, just as a sign of my gratitude for your gesture…’ John lit the candle, and then changed the subject. ’I have been thinking’, John said, ’about exercise.’ Aram was relieved that the subject had changed: ’What about exercise? You may be good at integral calculus and derivate – I have problem understanding what the bloody words mean – but I know a lot about exercise. Ask whatever you wish.’ ’To be honest: I think it is rather – ehrm.’ John’s cheeks and ears became more red than usual. ’I mean, I think it is cool to have muscles, even if it is hard to admit.’ ’It is not something to be shy about, little buddy. Many men like to be beefy. I guess most men would like to be built, even if not everyone like to admit it. Could you imagine Snape lifting weights?’ It was not only Aram’s joke about the acerbic chemistry teacher, but also his facial expression, which helped John to explode with laughter. It also shattered John’s embarrassment. ’Could you teach me how to work out at the gym, if I help you with homework?’ ’Fair enough. I sometimes feel stupid with you. At the gym I will be the teacher.’ Aram proudly flexed his right biceps, and felt cocky when he saw how John’s eyes involuntarily became wider. ’You like what you see?’ John suddenly looked shy again. Aram felt protective. John was so short and thin. ’Want to feel that bicep? Don’t be afraid. I’m not teasing you. It is fun for me to show my results.’ Shyly, John laid his palm over Aram’s biceps, and pressed carefully. ’Harder!’, Aram encouraged. John pressed harder. Aram’s biceps was of the size and density of a croquet-ball, and it rested on a really big triceps. John felt awkward again. His dick was growing and hardening. He sat down on the bed, and hoped that Aram hadn’t noticed. ’Which gym would be good for me?’ ’Why don’t you follow me to the one I workout at?’ ’Aren’t there a lot of big guys there? And doesn’t Peter and his crew hang out there?’ ’Peter is lazy at the gym, and I haven’t seen any of his friends there. Anderson is preoccupied with football, and the others spend their time with driving lessons, booze and grass. They aren’t very healthy, if you ask me. And I will be with you there. If Peter mess with you, I will have a serious conversation with him. He better stay away. The big guys at the gym are alright. Some of them like to give advice. Carl would probably join us at some times.’ * * * John stood before the desk at the gym, and felt shy. A very fit, but not gigantic, trainer manned the desk, dressed in a snug red T-shirt with the gym’s logotype on its chest. ’I’m waiting for a friend.’, John explained apologetically. He peeked into a folder about prices, and found a one-year membership mandatory. In September next year, he would most probably study at university in another city, and the last two months of a one-year membership would be wasted. Aram came in through the door, and began discussing membership and prices with the trainer and John, and, as a result, John got a deal, which meant, that he only had to pay for ten months. They entered the locker room, changed clothes, and Aram begun to introduce John to the machines and weightroom. ’For anyone experienced, free weights are more important than machines. For a beginner, machines may have a purpose, especially for avoiding injuries. Look, for instance, on this one…’ One and a half hour later, John laid on the floor in the locker room. He had Aram’s towel under his head, and rested his legs on a bench, in order to let blood return to his head. He dripped of sweat, and felt nauseous. Aram returned from the loo with a paper towel dipped in cold water, and laid it on John’s forehead. ’I am sorry little buddy. I didn’t know where your limits were. I didn’t mean to exhaust you that much the first time.’ ’It’s not your fault. How could you know?’ * * * John and Aram had developed a habit of visiting Carl’s family on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Carl often spent Fridays and Saturdays with a bunch of SHARPs from the other side of the city, but Sundays were an opportunity for them to meet outside the gym and watch films together in Carl’s room. They all sat on Carl’s bed, with their backs against the wall. They had watched ’Captain America’ and ’Elysium’, and were now halfway into the Dwayne Johnson version of ’Hercules’. ’Look at all that muscle!’, Carl exclaimed impressed, for the second time during the evening. Aram poked him with his elbow: ’Do you know how gay you sound, Carl?’ ’Who you calling gay?’, Carl answered, and threw himself over Aram, playfully and boisterously tickling him. John bounced up in the air before landing back on the bedspread, but Aram and Carl fell to the floor, laughing and wrestling. It ended with Aram sitting on Carl’s back, holding his arm at an uncomfortable angle. * * * ’Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Will you eat dinner with the entire family?’, John’s mother – who worked with care of aged people – asked him the day before Halloween. ’I will stay home on All Saints, but Emelie has invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow night.’, John answered. ’I’m glad that you leave home more often, nowadays. But you know what grandmother will say.’ ’That borrowings of ghosts and pumpkins from the Americans will commercialise and destroy any decorous celebration of All Saints.’ John and his mother looked silently at each other with giddy looks, and both said in unison: ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ They laughed. John’s grandmother was not a particularly religious person, and, just as most of their relatives, she unreflectedly mixed Agnosticism with Christianity, but she was fond of family traditions, and decorated her home zealously at Advent, Christmas, Easter, May Day and Midsummer, just as she had done as a young mom in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners. The recent introduction of masquerades at Halloween hadn’t found any approval from the old lady, since she thought that such merriment would distract from the solemn commemoration of the departed. She had decorated her own parents’ tomb today, before travelling to her only daughter and her family. Unlike most persons of her grandchildrens’ generation, his grandmother celebrated her nameday, and since her name was Inga-Birgitta, she celebrated both twenty-third of July and twenty-fifth of October. While Aram, Carl and John lived in council flats in grey five-storied concrete buildings built in the 1970’s (and so did Peter), Simon, Emma and Emelie lived in a residential garden suburb nearby, where hedges and fences kept one-family houses of mixed age (some of them as old as the 1920’s) apart. A very busy road marked the border between the two areas, but narrow asphalt-coated paths, for bicycles and pedestrians, run in graffiti-painted tunnels under the road at two different points, connecting these two areas. John met Aram and Carl close to the nearby tunnel. John was dressed in a black suit he had bought half a year ago, when he attended the Confirmation of a cousin. John had put white theatre grease-paint in his face, and fastened vampire teeth on his eye-teeth. ’Greetings, children of the night!’ Aram and Carl smiled. Carl was dressed in camo trousers, but wore the same boots as usual. He was dressed in a black NATO jersey and some sort of combat harness. ’What is that supposed to mean, besides a soldier in general?’ ’Don’t you see? I’m G.I. Joe!’ ’I didn’t watch that film.’ ’You didn’t? It’s awesome! Let’s watch it on Sunday!’ Aram was green painted in his face, and dressed in a thick woolen overcoat. ’And you? That isn’t obvious… unless…’ Aram opened his coat. He didn’t wear any shirt, despite the cold autumnal weather. His entire torso was painted in bright green, and his trousers were purple. ’That’s hilarious! The Hulk! And it is convincing, too.’ ’You are much better than me with words, but I thank you for the compliments.’ ’Than I am’, John absentmindedly corrected Aram. The night was cold and filled with mist, but they found Emelie’s house without any problems. The house was full of very young adults, and it turned out that Emelie’s parents attended a dinner somewhere else that evening. The night went on rather well. The punchbowl probably contained something persons of their age weren’t officially supposed to drink for another two years, but, since the girls in Emelie’s circle of friends were well-behaved, and since most of the boys didn’t want to spoil the hard earned results of their physical exercise, utterly few of them drank too much. Emelie wasn’t known for having patience with fools, and had planned her guest list carefully, weeding out known drunkards. Parties with her classmates and parallel classes were otherwise known to be rather wet. Emelie had succeeded in her attempt to look like Morticia Adams. Emma was clothed in a furry pink rabbit suit, and only her face was visible. Several of the girls were dressed for an ordinary party, and qualified for a masquerade just by wearing pointy witches’ hats. John wasn’t the only vampire among the young men. A few of the guest looked like characters from animes or computer games. Emma seemed disappointed of Emelie’s choice of music: ’Emelie! Now we have listened to Fields of the Nephilim for half an hour. Don’t you have any tunes by Justin Bieber or One Direction?’ ’Are you kidding? Personally, I think it would spoil the Halloween mood, but if you wish to log into your own Spotify account, you are welcome to do so. You know where the computer is, but don’t expect me to tolerate your unbearable music for very long.’ On his way home, John felt awkward and slightly flattered. One of the lightbulbs had broken, and Emelie suffered from dizziness. She had asked John for help. When he stood at a chair, changing the lightbulb, his shirt had left the inside of his trousers and revealed his belly. Emelie had began to giggle nervously, and called after Emma. John didn’t understand why, and felt insulted. ’Please, John. Show us your abs again.’ ’My abs? What are you talking about? You know that I don’t…’ Giggling, Emelie had pinched the shirt fabric and revealed his abs again. His abs? He didn’t… He DID? ’Cool’, Emma said. ’Exercise suits you.’ * * * An Advent wreath stood on the kitchen table, burning with two lit candles and two unlit ones. It was dark outside the window, and, since the first snow had melted away, there was nothing to lighten the winter night up. John stood at a kitchen desk, taking notes of how much various foodstuffs weighed. That would simplify the composition of gym friendly recipes in the future. His mother entered the kitchen, and began to heat a small amount of mulled wine on the electric stove. ’I received phone calls from your chemistry teacher and your biology teacher today. Your physics teacher called yesterday.’ ’Yes?’ ’They are worried about you. Since you started two and a half year ago, they have regarded you as very talented in natural science, but recently your results have deteriorated. They wanted me to talk to you about it.’ ’Nothing is wrong. I just performed unusually bad in a couple of tests the last weeks.’ The mulled wine had reached a desired temperature. She poured some of the content in a mug. ’Do you want some? It is the soft drink version, so you don’t have to worry. It’s cold outside, so I needed something to drive away the chill in my bones.’ ’No, thanks. I avoid sugar as well.’ ’John, I don’t disapprove that you exercise. It seems to be healthy for you, and I am happy that you have a lot more friends now than you had before. But don’t you think you take it a little too far? Why don’t you play floorball or badminton, or jog or swim, or any other more normal sport? It can’t be good for you, to be so obsessed with what you eat. Are you going to eat like that way during Christmas as well? What will grandmother say?’ ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ ’This is not something to joke about. I’m afraid that your exercise will affect your school results. And I have read about body dysmorphia and eating disorders in the newspapers. Don’t you understand that I am worried about you? What will happen to your plans to become a physician, a biochemist or a physicist, if you let exercise distract you from studies?’ ’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!’, John shouted, left the kitchen, took his training bag and closed the door with a bang. His teenage anger went rampant through his mind and body: Thoughts going in a loop, his emotions boiling, his blood pressure pounding, his body temperature steaming. He loosened the wooly scarf and opened the closed zipper of his large jacket. The staff had left the gym, and the doors were closed, but members were given a key tag that unlocked the door at night. The scent of steel corroding under the influence of sweat. The scent of rubber mats. Furiously, he worked out in the almost empty gym: Only two or three other members exercised this late. It felt much better afterwards. The machines, the barbells, the dumbbells: They had helped him to release his irritation, and he now felt calm, content and harmonious. Freshly showered. Meanwhile he had been indoors at the gym, the temperature had dropped, and it had began to snow. The chill had some bite. On his way home, he unexpectedly met Carl, who was on his way home from something else: It had something to do with music. They talked. About parents and other things. Carl. Reliable Carl: Hard as nails, incredibly funny, and a kind friend to his friends. ’Ah. Come here, mate. It will be better tomorrow.’ They exchanged a hug. A brotherly hug. A rather long brotherly hug. Carl’s polo shirt was warm of his body heat. Carl’s glistening, black synthetic bomber jacket was cold of the winter temperatures. The scents from their different anti-perspirants mixed in the cool night air. A brotherly hug. Carl patted John at the back. ’It will probably be better tomorrow.’ * * * Emma sat in her sofa. Aram sat in the same armchair he had sat so many times before. A lit Advent star hung in the window, and spread a soft glow in the living room. From windows on the other side the street other electric Advent stars shone back. Emma was finishing her explanation: ’It isn’t you, it is me. I am not able to appreciate what you speak about. I miss the old Aram from when we first met: My teddy bear. My kind puppy with hockey butt. I am not interested in nuclear science, new medicines or what’s going on in parts of the world I don’t even know where they are. We have nothing in common anymore, if we ever had. I’m sorry. I like you as a friend, but …’ Her lip began to tremble. Aram hug her sadly, carefully and more softly than usual. ’I’m sorry, but I suppose that I understand…’ * * * Madame Cremorna had closed her shop at 7 p.m. as usual. Since the supermarkets kept open until 9 or 10 p.m. she had lots of time to buy the food and Christmas decorations necessary. She returned to her shop, in order to do some work. Supernatural work. She lived in an old-fashioned flat upstairs, which she had bought several years ago, before the prices had begun to rise ridiculously. Her phone rang. ’Madame Cremorna. … O hello Stephen! How is life in New York? I don’t even know what time it is in your time zone. … It is? … Aha. … A disturbance? … Oh, yes, I am up to a major working, but it is far from world-shattering, you know. Professional secrecy, so I can’t say anything, but I can assure you that it is just about the private life of two persons and their surroundings. It is not like I am about to open a gate for Dormammu or Nergal, if you know my drift. … Not funny? I see. … You are? London? Why? … But what brings you and John to this corner of the world? … No? You are kidding? … Yes, of course. Do you have any dietary restrictions before that working? … No. … No, it is no problem at all: I have a lot of vegetarian Christmas dishes. … Pardon? … No, it doesn’t surprise me that John isn’t picky. If he would like it, I could probably find a christmas pudding and a turkey for him God knows where, but you have to know that the locals prefer ham, meatballs, cabbage and vanilla rice pudding at this time of the year. And herring. Lots of herring. Remind me to put an ash tray in my living room while you stay. … Oh yes. … No, no problem at all. Take care, and give me a call when you think you will stop by.’ She hang up and washed her hands, first in running water and a non-perfumed soap, then in Florida Water. She sprinkled herself with holy water, went before her private shrine and lit both the altar candles and the incense. The air in the room felt thicker now, and the room felt connected to the rest of the world and to the unseen aspects of reality. Her highly trained senses could feel the presence of God, of spirits of many sorts, and of unseen subtle influences stretching themselves out from the room as a cobweb of spiritual light. ’Almighty and everlasting God, who harkened to the prayers of Moses in the wilderness, when he, assisted of Aaron and Hur, prayed for victory against the Amalekites, hear me…’ After a long prayer she stretched her hands out over fragments of candle wax she had removed from a candle, in order to fill it with scented oil. ’O God of my fathers, and Lord of Mercy, who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom, that he should have dominion over the creatures which thou hast made, and order the world according to equity and righteousness, and execute judgment with an upright heart: Give me wisdom, that sitteth by thy throne; and reject me not from among thy children…’ Then she did the same to fragments from another candle: ’It is God, that girdeth me with strength of war: and maketh my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts’ feet: and setteth me up on high. He teacheth mine hands to fight: and mine arms shall break even a bow of steel…’ She had repeated this for weeks now. Divine Spirit was answering. The wheels of the invisible and incomprehensible world machinery turned, and unseen chains of causes and effects slowly turned the former reality into something slightly, slightly different. * * * Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/
  11. Magic isn't real (part 1)

    Oh, hey. Sure, you can buy me a drink. Thanks. Hmm, you think there’s an aura about me? Why do you say that? There’s something about me that seems different…that, feels different? Yeah, let me explain some things. Some of you would call it magic, or godly powers, or something stupid like that. Not saying you’re stupid, but the ideas are. Kinda. You hear of these people who can squat 1000 lbs, or have 20 inch biceps, or cannot get sick, or something else that seems cool that you wish you can do…and then you try to figure out how they did it. Those things fall, sorta, within the normal realm of human possibility. But what about those people who get hit by a truck and survive? What about those people who somehow hit growth spurts in their 30s and 40s and gain inches…everywhere? What about these people who seem to fly, or can lift anything they want, or cum a gallon or more? That shit is clearly made up, right? Or, as we humans like to attribute such things, it’s clearly the work of magic? Y’all watch those Avengers movies and think that’s all made up, because it can’t be real…. I’m here to let you know that it’s not magic. It’s science. And I tell you that because I’m one of those…well, freaks, if you will…and I know how I do what I do. You see, I have a gift. It took me a while to figure out my gift, but I got it none-the-less. I’m calling it a gift because it’s actually possible for any of you to do this – but, for whatever reason, I can and you can’t. I have the ability to change your body to, well, a lot of things. Not everything. I can’t make you a fish, and I can’t make you 30 feet tall, and I can’t make you sprout an extra cock. I’ve tried, it doesn’t happen. Without going into too much detail, we are the product of two things: the environment around us, and our genetics. Nothing is one hundred percent one or the other. Why are you short? It could be your genes, but it could also be your environment. It could also be both, which sucks, but such is existence. I can’t do much about the environment, but I have the ability to influence your genetics. No, I don’t rewrite your body’s genetic code, but I can mess with your genes’ expression rates. There are these funky chemicals we give off, called pheromones, that help dictate gene expression. Again, I don’t understand this part, but I can control which pheromones and gene regulators I secrete into the environment around me. You sniff them in, you absorb them through your skin, and boom. I am now changing your genetics. The skin’s the best, though – direct contact. I’m also pretty good at detecting pheromones, which is weird for guys. We don’t typically pick up on this stuff as well as women do. That’s why they’re always ‘oh, I have a bad feeling about this person,’ and all that catty shit. They’re reading pheromones. Maybe it’s because I can deal ‘em, I can detect levels of pheromones being given off. Some of them are hormones excreted by your skin, which aren’t in high doses, but I can tell. Yeah, I can sniff if someone’s in heat or got performance issues or even if a person’s got cancer. That lady over there, talking to that guy who wants nothing to do with her? Her FSH is off – the – chart. Oh, you don’t know what that…nevermind. I don’t know how many of you took high school biology, but let’s summarize a whole lot of shit you don’t remember succinctly: fucking with genes takes a long time, because there are lots of things going on. If I walk past you and release the chemicals to make your muscles grow, you aren’t going to gain 30 pounds in the next three seconds. That’s not possible, and your heart couldn’t handle it. I can’t make you gain ten feet in height, because your body couldn’t handle pushing blood up fifteen feet into the air. There are limits to these things, ok? Science is science. I just can fuck with what science lets me. Oh, you don’t believe me? Ok. Let’s do an experiment or two. It’s gonna take some time, so you gotta be patient. See that guy over there? The one talking with that tall guy having one too many Guinesses? He’s trying to gym consistently and he wants to gain some muscle. How did I figure that out? You’d expect me to say I can “read minds,” but that shit ain’t possible. Ever try to figure out your own thoughts? Yeah, exactly. He’s like 5’5”, maybe 100 lbs, and he’s wearing a LVFT shirt. People who don’t lift, or want to lift, typically wear that. Shall we verify? Told you. Oh, I said he has a nice brand of shirt and he smiled and said he’s been hitting the gym for about a month. He’s frustrated that the growth isn’t as fast as he’d like. Why did I touch him on the arms? Ah, you weren’t paying attention, were you? Touch is the best way to deliver the pheromones. I got them to concentrate on my left hand, so when I asked to see his progress – yeah, he’s trying – I had an excuse to feel his arm and, boom. I had to apologize for having a “sweaty palm,” cuz I left his arm wet. I made sure I poured out a lot for him. Had to have an excuse, so I blamed it on the heat. It’s always hot in this bar, which sucks cuz the drinks are good. He said he comes here regularly, so I said I’d get him a drink the next time I’m here and he is too, which is next Thursday. Yeah, conveniently a week from today, no? I’m pretty sure you’d want to come back to see if I’m full of shit or not. For full blown muscle growth, it typically takes a few weeks to see pounds of muscle mass to be gained. Wait, you think that’s normal? Hell no. A few pounds a year is pretty spectacular. I’m not entirely sure – I will need to smell what he’s giving off next week – but I think I gave him enough for thirty or so pounds. That’s a lot, and he’ll be showing. What’s in this for you? Well, I told you an experiment or two. You’re the second experiment. I can’t figure it out from what your body is dumping off, but your testosterone, hGH, FSH, dihydroxytestosterone, LH, progesterone and androstene levels smell normal. Doubting there are enzyme deficiencies. So, I’d guess you’re packing what? 6 inches? Something about average? Yeah, I figured. Oh, oops. Sorry if I’m being too loud – I do like this Jaegermeister shit. I like these, um, discrepant events? You think one thing is the case, while I’ll show you’re wrong. Yeah, this works for doing other things, too. I’m still not great at the cancer thing – but I’m working on it. If I figure it out, yeah, the medical community is gonna know. What about my body? Oh, I’ll explain that later. Sad story. So, while we’ve been here, I’ve been pouring out as many of those hormones as I could. Hormones, pheromones, eh, they basically do the same thing. I’m giving you some other fun things that only target your dick. This will be a bit more entertaining, because you’ve been sniffing it for the past thirty minutes. It’s stuck on your clothes. You’ll keep absorbing it after I say goodbye. If I’m not full of shit – and I’m not – I’ll see you in a week with a bit more stretching your pants than I can feel right now. Yeah, it’ll take time, just like my muscle man project over there. Oh, I’m good to go home – I live within walking distance. See you next Thursday.
  12. My Weekend JOB part two by F_R_Eaky Dedicated to so many artists, writers, etc. that inspire. PART ONE: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6983-my-weekend-job-part-one/ Joshua went to take a shower in the hotel room, but became lost in thought looking at himself in the mirror. His crotch was just up over the counter top now. He looked down at his feet to see their new size and comparison to the floor tiles. He stood and marveled in the shower to see where the shower head now came to on him and how he could look over the shower curtain rod with just a slight tilt of his head or a raise onto his toes. "I'm six foot four....six foot four!" He said to himself over and over again. He rubbed his hands up and down his body to wash it and felt how he had not only grown, but lost all his unhealthy weight. Like his friend, Brent, he too had grown taller and achieved the build of a swimmer. As his hand went further down though he suddenly had a very shocking revelation. "OH MY GAWD!" "You alright, Josh?" Cried Brent from the other side of the bathroom door. "Ye....ye...yeah." stammered Joshua. "You just discovered your third leg, didn't you?" "WHAT?" Said Joshua, realizing the implication Brent was making. He turned off the shower, threw open the curtain, grabbed a towel and stepped outside to see Brent sitting on the bed, laptop open, watching a growth video, and his cock was enormous. Joshua was so taken back that he dropped his towel. Brent looked up and over to him and then smiled. "You look about the same soft as I did - nine inches" Joshua looked up to Brent's face, who just took a ruler from his side and tossed it to Josh. "It's fully erect now and is twelve inches exactly. Can you believe that? Twelve inches. We're some of the largest hung men on Earth." Joshua felt his cock rise up and bob, the new length and girth of his cock fought against its rising and made a compromise by simply sticking straight out. Sitting down on the bed, Joshua began to watch the videos Brent had pulled up and suddenly Brent began to stroke Joshua's cock. The sudden jolt of pleasure was so powerful, it made Joshua convulse a little and his toes and fingers curl. "OH GAWD!" "I know.... they're soooo sensitive now. and I think our balls have increased in size too." Joshua reached his hand out and made contact with Brent's magnificent member and began to stroke it. This in turn made Brent begin to contort and curl his digits inward as well. The two watched more videos and stroked until they couldn't stroke anymore and blew two very large loads into towels. After a second shower, Brent presented Joshua with some of his clothes and a pair of size sixteen sneakers. Joshua was nearly ready and raring to go again, an erection trying to happen once more as the idea of wearing Brent's clothes and them fitting turned him on very much. "I kind of figured yours weren't going to fit too well anymore and you needed something to drive home in." Joshua thanked Brent for the clothes, and the two packed their things and said goodbye to one another. Joshua almost didn't make it home without blowing a load. He had to get used to the fact that he was tall. In some hallways and some older gas stations and convenient stores on the way home, he had to duck signs or watch the door frames as they were much lower than the modern standard average. Getting used to walking with longer strides and his large size sixteen feet and their shoes was also a challenge, not to mention he now had to put his driver's seat much farther back than it used to be. ***************************************************************************** * It had been about a month since Joshua had spent a weekend with Brent, as per usual. Normally between his schedule or Brent's schedule, plus the fact of how far apart the two of them lived from each other, the two could only meet about every three or four months or so. But oh, what an exhausting month it had been. Although Joshua enjoyed his new height, his larger feet, his slimmer build, and his larger cock, and enjoyed them immensely, they created a few problems. The first was Joshua's friend, Lawrence, Larry. How on earth would he, could he explain a seven inch growth spurt plus a several pound weight loss or change over the course of a weekend? He had to dodge Larry over and over again, for him not to see Joshua, until Joshua could come up with an explanation. Not only that, but none of Joshua's clothes fit him, so he couldn't make an appearance at work or even in the mall or parks, not until he could buy some clothes. And that didn't come easy. Although only being six foot four inches tall, there were still many things on the normal rack that didn't fit well on Joshua's body. That didn't even take into account that Joshua had to start learning to "wear" his soft cock down one pants leg or the other as it all wrapped or balled up upon his larger testicles simply created too large of a bulge. At any rate, there were some clothes, especially the shoes, he would have to buy either custom made or at much higher prices due to there being a much more limited supply of them. He called in sick for two days, feigning the flu, and went on a shopping spree the best his savings could allow. Then he came in early and left late every day so as not to have coworkers see him too much standing so much taller than he used to. When it did come time for him to have to walk to a meeting with a group of people he would hunch so his new height wasn't quite as noticeable. He also had to think cold shower thoughts whenever he did have to go walking around the office because he noticed how many more people he stood taller than or that most of the people he thought were really tall in the office, were at best just as tall as he is now. But Joshua also decided to help his financial situation out a little bit. Thinking about how expensive it was to have to buy a whole new wardrobe, not to mention that the mattress on the bed seemed a little short as well, he wondered how on earth he was going to earn all the extra money he needed. The answer came to him as he passed by an old costume shop window in the heart of his city's "old towne." They had as one of the displays an old eighties style wrestling outfit, but had combined it with a Mexican style wrestling mask. He went in a bought a couple of wrestling masks and then went to sports store to buy some wrestling trunks. Once he was back at home, he created an account on CAM4 under the name, Clyde S'dale, and listed himself as a behind the scenes wrestler lithe but toned build, 76" x 8-13" plus 12". At first things were a little slow, but once everyone got a glance at the size of the bulge in his trunks and the unveiling of his cock, the rise of his cock to erection, men and women began to flock to his page like moths to a flame. And of course many wanted to see him jack off or self suck his cock, and Joshua was all too turned on and willing to do just that, but made those acts private so as to have folks pay for the privilege to see that. He moved on to or added other muscle or cock cam sites and it didn't take him long to earn a decent amount of money. But the buying of new clothes, some new pieces of furniture, and nearly nightly jack off sessions, sometimes multiple, was making Joshua exhausted. Then one night Joshua received a phone call from Brent. "Hey Josh, how you doin'?" "Hey Brent, doin' well. You?" "Doin' okay. Whatchu doin' now?" "Not much." "Really... not been growing? Not been getting big?" "Oh yeah! Constantly, man. You know me. Hardly a day goes by I don't dream of getting huge, muscular, and hung." "Still? Even now, when you're six foot four and hung like a bull?" "Oh maaaaaaan. Even more so now. I can't believe we both grew. To have our fantasy kind of come true like that. It's such a turn on. Hmmmmm fuck...." "Getting hard now, just thinking about it?" "Yeah....aaaw gotta get these jeans off and set my cock free..." "I understand. I still can't believe how big our cocks got. How meaty and hefty they feel." "And still so rock hard and throbbing." "Yeah.... and we just want them to get bigger." "Ooooh yes.... bigger.....biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiii iiiiiiiii gerrrrrrrrr..." "No... we can't get into it.... not right now." Joshua stopped speaking or moaning rather, but silently kept playing with huge, engorged cock as he listened. "I need to meet up with you again, and I think you need to meet up with me again. We need to hang together because we rock, we understand each other, and now understand what a well endowed man needs." "Awwww man... I agree...." And Brent told him a hotel he had booked, the city it was located in, and arranged for him to meet the following weekend. After hanging up, Joshua imagine how much fun the weekend would be, what happened the last time they met up, and about growing hulk sized. It didn't take him long before he was spraying a supreme sized load from his natural hose. ***************************************************************************** After knocking on room 1709's door and greeting Brent after he opened it, Joshua walked into two surprises for the weekend. The first was that this room wasn't a room. It was a couple of rooms that contained a living area, a dining nook, the bedroom area, and a bathroom. Brent explained that both of them being tall men now, he decided to use up his hotel points to get some accommodations that were just under the presidential suite level. He also did this because of the second surprise. "Whoa! You're right, Brent, he did grow." Joshua turned the corner to find two other net buddies he made: Darien and Andrixos. Darien was a 6' 1", balding blond man, blue eyed, with a slightly stocky and hairy body. Andrixos was 6' 4", average build that was pretty smooth, green eyes and thick mop of sun-kissed brunette hair. These two were also fond of the same fetish Brent and Joshua liked, again some slight variations in hose they fantasized about things, but still the general outcome was the same: bigger, taller, stronger, more hung men. "Sorry to surprise you like this, Joshua, but I had to tell someone what happened. I was visiting with Darien a couple of weekends ago and he at first didn't really believe my story until he noticed my new shoes and that they were definitely bigger than size twelves." "Not to mention the fact that once you took them off, I could tell your feet filled those shoes and filled them well." Said Darien. "Anyway, I told them about our little growth and of course explained the greatest changes happened to you. They went to looking at your Facebook page and saw your pics of you standing next to your tall friends, one whom I remember you telling me was six foot three inches tall. They decided to have a major weekend and see for themselves what you looked like now." The trio stood there looking at Joshua as he looked back at them and thought for a minute. Finally, Joshua relaxed his stance and placing his laptop case on the dining table announced... "Cool... .... I've had to hide the changes from all my coworkers and my friends. I mean, how does one describe a seven inch growth spurt, not to mention a five and half inch one down there, over the course of just a weekend? It's nice to be able to tell someone and talk about it." With that the four of them changed into more casual and comfortable clothes, pulled out laptops, and began to watch and talk all about the growth that happened and the growth they'd love to see. Towards the end of the night, or very early in the morning, they decided to wind down the first night of their growth fest and retire of the evening. "So really, you guys were just jacking off to some videos, you released, and the next morning you woke up changed?" asked Andrixos. "Yeah," said Joshua. "Just like we had hundreds of times before with those particular videos we showed you earlier this evening." "Well, we don't feel any different? Do you two feel different or like changes are going on?" "No" said Brent, "But there was one thing we had done differently, by accident that we normally didn't." "What was that?" "We came on each other." Joshua blushed as he spoke, "actually we accidentally blew into each other's mouths." "You sure it was accidental?" said Andrixos as he gave Josh and Brent a smile. "It was." said Brent. "He helped me climax and I herky-jerked and wound up pointing my cock his direction upon my release. To be polite, I helped him get off and aimed it at myself, so he didn't feel like I was just shooting at him for fun." Brent then got up off the bed he and Joshua were lying on top of and went to go use the bathroom, at which point Andrixos got up off the other bed he and Darien were on and took Brent's spot. "Whatchu watching over here?" Andrixos asked Joshua as he reclined across the bed. "Oh, it a series of morph videos. The artist takes these video clips of bodybuilders and after a certain point he has them blow up in size and then everyone takes photos of them. Sometimes they blow up twice from two different normal poses, or he blows them up twice, bodybuilder to super human to inhumane." "Oh yeah, I like those videos." Said Brent as he came back, and reaching for his laptop, grabbed it and sat on the other bed next to Darien. He threw a chord end over to Joshua. "Here, let's sync up so we can easily see what you're playing over there, over here." Joshua plugged the chord into his lap top, clicked on some things, and soon whatever he was playing on his laptop, Brent was viewing on his. [...(crowd grasps, the sound of slightly heavy footfalls as a bodybuilder takes the stage....) ] "Oh I like this, that's Alexey Lusekov. He is so fuckin' thick!" said Brent. [... (Alexey makes his way center of the stage, raises his arms to do a frontal lat and chest spread.) pow pa-pow pa-pow pow pow pa-pow.... errrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRT! (Alexey blows up to twice his size... the crowd ooo's and ahhh's even louder and more and more photos are taken) .... pow pa-pow pow pow pow pa-pow pa-pow pow pow pow...] Darien leans over to see Brent's screen better. "You like Alexey cause he's all thick and swole, you like him now that he's even.....bigger!?" "Hmmmmmmmm oooh yeah....." Andrixos leans over and queries Joshua. "How 'bout you, Josh? You like Alexey?" "Ooooh yeah... I like Alexey. He's so fuckin' thick and dense, full and hard, yet defined...." "And now that he's even bigger?" "Uhhhhmmmm yeah.... love that...such power..." [....(Alexey turns and does a side chest shot. The crowd ooh's and awes when he suddenly breaks it and then goes back into it and then swells even bigger.) ... errrrrrRRRRRRRT HURRR! POW PA-POW PA-POW PA-POW POW POW POW....] "You like it when they swell, don'cha, Joshua? " "huh huh....oooh yeah....muscle's poppin' getting fuller..." "How 'bout you, Brent?" "Yes.... Those big full muscles just getting... huh...huh.... larger and thicker... Oh look... huh... Joshua, it's Lee Priest. You love Lee Priest. ..." "Oh yeah.... huh huh...loved him for ages..." [ (Lee steps up in front of machines in the weight room. His arms are hanging so far out to his sides because his lats and upper arms are so thick. He stands there and straightens his posture.) eeerrrrrRRRRRT! (suddenly his shoulders and back broaden even incredibly wider, his arms become a little fuller and so does his waist line, even though it looks tight under his white tank top. He flexes his arms a little bit. The scene repeats only this time it's slower...) HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!] "You like that don't you, Brent. Getting bigger... Stronger...." "Yeah... more muscular... harder....denser..." "Come on, big boy.... don't let Lee outgrow you..." "Yeah...huh huh...huh....huh.....getting so pumped up." "You like it too, right, Joshua?" Said Andrixos as he placed his hands on Joshua's shoulders. "huh ... huh....yeah.... growing bigger...denser... stronger... fuller....huh huh huh..." "And Lee's not goin' to outgrow you. Why you're a full foot taller than him, maybe more. You can't outgrow him... you're doing it now aren't you...ERRRRRRT!" "OOOH FUCK! YES! Growing...." [(Scene changes to Lee now doing shoulder shrugs... in the middle of which he suddenly grows) eeerrRRRRRRT! (the scene again repeats itself in a slower fashion as the hunky Lee Priest begins, slower this time to work out those shoulders and then grow...) HUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!] "You're swelling right there with him, aren'tchu, Brent big boy?" "UUUH... yes...growing...huh huh...swelling....huh....ballooning...." "Come on, big man....grow... GROW! You a wussy? I SAID GROW!" "HUhh BIGGER! huh huh huh....stronger....denser....harder...thicker! huh hhu hhuh...." "You're not gonna let Brent and Lee out grow you are you?" "NO! NO! Getting bigger! huh huh huh more swole! Fuller! STRONGER!" "Must be hard for you to stroke that cock... it's so much longer and thicker than it was before." "HUH HUH huh huh huh huh huh yeah....oooh soooo... huh huh big....the sensations! Ooooh." "Look here comes Phil Heath to the stage. He's gonna swell and outgrow you." [ "He said he wanted the word massive to be used amongst the other words that I commonly used to describe..." (Phil Heath does a double bi and then....) HUUH! (Instantly he doubles in massive size and the crowd gasps and cheers).....] "No... NO.... huh huh huh huh our growing him!" "And your cock is growing even longer and thicker too..." "OOOOOoooooohh OH! YEAH! huh huh huh huh huh .....gettting soooo bi-HIG! huh huh huh..." "You're growin' too, aren'tcha big boy. Gonna become a real man?" "Yes....huh huh..." "Yeah?" "Yes...bigger...huh...STRONGER!..... DENSER!.... huh huh huh huh..." "Why don't you show me how you can grow...." At that moment, Andrixos and Darien each grabbed either Joshua's or Brent's cock. One hand grabbing the head and squeezing it hard while rubbing the thumb up over the head and the slit, while the other hand pulled long, firm, and slow down the shaft. "AUUUUUUUUUUGH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" "AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" The sensation of this blow was so strong, both Joshua and Brent convulsed, shook, spasmed, as they blew their load and then passed out. Andrixos and Darien both took the shots into them and then proceeded to jack off to the rest of the videos, falling asleep after they came. ***************************************************************************** The next morning, three of the buddies awoke to the sound of one of them screaming. "HOLY SHIT!" The three sat up in the beds they were laying on and looked towards the bathroom door. Andrixos, slowly peeked around the corner towards his three friends and saw them all breathlessly sitting up, awake, on the beds. "Sorry, guys....didn't mean to wake you..." "Well, what surprised or scared you?" Asked Brent. "oooh..." stated Darien.... "I think....oooooh..... I know....." Everyone looked at Darien.... the sheets over his lap began to shift and move, rise, and a pillar like formation began to rise up and cause the fabric to tent. It began to sway and bobble a little, then suddenly there was a snap, like the sound of an elastic band pulling taught against skin after being pulled and stretched too far. Joshua shot a glace over to Andrixos. "I take it you're now a member of the foot long club, too?" Andrixos, shrugged and stepped out of the bathroom, revealing that his member was tenting his underwear to maximum capacity. "You seemed to have slimmed down just a titch and toned up as well." "Alright, Darien," said Brent, "Stand up..." "What?" "Get out of bed and stand up." "But uhmmmm...." "We're jack off buddies, we've seen each other before, and the two of us have been walking around with a ruler in our pants now for a month. You're not going to surprise or scare us." Slowly Darien stood up, and then walked over to Andrixos, whom he was now just as tall as. "Ok to make it official," said Joshua, "Go attempt to put your shoes on and see if they fit." The shoes didn't fit of course, both of them now wearing size sixteens. After the initial shock wore off the four men began to talk and discuss how great it was all of them being tall, slim and trim, and hung. Brent and Joshua pulled out some extra pairs of shoes and gave them to Andrixos and Darien, while Andrixos loaned some clothes to Darien to wear and then the four of them all went out to grab some breakfast. The four of them had a hard time keeping their cocks deflated, and smiles from spreading across their lips, because all of them being slim and six foot four inches tall, had folks asking obvious questions such as "Was there a basketball tournament in town?" or "Is there a meeting of International Tall People Clubs nearby." They had fun knowing they were making quite a sizeable impression on most folks, even though they did run into other men who were slightly to quite a bit taller, and many who were larger built. Still it surprised them that at "only" a "mere" six foot four how many men they were taller than. They spent the late morning doing some clothes and shoe shopping for Andrixos and Darien, taking a couple of pictures in garages showing how they stood as tall or almost as tall as the height restriction for occupancy. They returned to the hotel room around noon and got things unpacked and sorted, placed things they bought for lunch and dinner on the table, and slowly began to just be seated in various spots of the suit. Finally Andrixos spoke up. "Ok... I have to know, is anyone else's horniness factor up like a thousand points? I mean, I don't know about you. It was already hard getting used to having to snake my cock down my pants leg, but the rubbing that was going on, the people asking if we were parts of sports team, talking about how big and huge we were, made me want to nearly blow several times." "Yeah..." laughed Joshua. "...It does take some getting used to, but you don't really get over it. I mean, that cock is just....THERE! There's no other way to say it, and it's going to get moved and rubbed regardless." "So, how did you two...get used to it? Control it?" "How else?" said Brent as he flipped open his lap top. "We jack off." The guys proceeded to have another waking session... and then another....and another.... before actually stopping and having lunch properly. They talked about the changes in their lives between the height difference experienced by Joshua, to the new shoes needed by everyone, they moved on to some politics, favorite movies and t.v. shows, guys they thought were hot, and other things. After dinner though, they began to stroke their individual mighty meat and think about bodybuilders, strength, growing, and being hung. A few hours and several bathroom towels later, it was late into the evening again. They were set for one last load to blow and feeling of euphoria. Andrixos had called up a 3D animation, still , video on his computer.... [ (sound of hard rock playing, while a man in an olive pull over complains....) "My head! What is happening?" (He suddenly holds his stomach) "My stomach. I'm gonna.... Whaaaa!" (Suddenly the man collapses to his butt on the ground....) "Pain gone. So...horny..." (his cock suddenly inflates, but then his body becomes just as rigid...) "uh....grrr.... I can't move! ... ... ... My voice! That's not me! It's too deep..."] "Ooooh yeah.... " cried Joshua. "Get a real man's voice... deep...low....make a chest rumble when you speak..." "hmmmmm" "oooooh" "oh, yeah...." Called out his three friends. [ "What is going on? Why is this happening to me? .... .... ... What the fuck?" (Suddenly the man's chest begins to inflate, thickening, widening, barreling out with muscle.) "Grow....Grroowww Bigger. Make me bigger!"] "Yeah... grow bigger, boy... get massive like us!" called out Darien. "Bigger....'' "Stronger..." "Denser...." [ (The man stands up and then begins to arch his back.... his muscles begin to inflate filling his clothes up to their maximum capacity.) ] "Getting bigger!" called out Brent "Stronger..." "Fuller..." "Swole...." "Harder...." "Denser...." "Thicker...." "Bulging...." [(suddenly the man begins to get taller too. His pants hem riding up his shins. His shirt hem riding up his abs. His sleeves travelling up his arms. All while his muscles continue to grow and pull and stretch on his clothes....] "More massive.... huh huh ....." cried out Andrixos. "Peaks, cuts, definition....huh huh huh ...." "Bigger muscle bellies...huh huh ...denser....huh huh...muscle fibers....." "Fuller...talller...stronger....bigger....massive...huh huh huh huh ...." [ (suddenly the man's balls inflate, his dick grows longer and thicker, bursting his fly wide open. The camera backs up for all to see the man has torn his shirt wide open down the front with just his burgeoning chest, while the sleeves have been shredded by his arms...) "FUCKIN' HUGE GROWIN' FUCKIN' HUGE!!"] "Cock getting huh huh huh larger..." "Balls getting bigger....huh huh huh huh" "More cum huh huh huh swirling round and round huh huh huh inside..." "Nads producing more huh huh hormones..." "Making us grow even bigger...huh huh huh " "fuller...huh huh......LARGER!...." "Which causes them huh huh huh to gro-OW bi-HIGGER! HUH HUH HUH" [(the man now stands nude, almost in a crab or most muscular pose, the whole world to see his giant and immense height, muscular, and cock size...) "PUMP ME, MOTHER FUCKER" (His cock rises even larger to the occasion...) "OH YEAH, I'M GONNA BLOW!"] "BLOW HUH HUH OOOH AND HUH HUH GROW!" "BIGGER! HUHU HUH HUH" "STRONGER! HUH HUH HUH HOOOOO-OH!" "BROA HUH HUH HUH BROA HUH HUH BROA-DER! ER!" "TALLER! HUH HUH MUCH MORE HUH HUH TALLER!" "MORE HUNG! HUH HUH HUH HORSE HUNG!" "EVERYONE HUH HUH HUH IS GETTING SO SMALL COMPAIRED HUH HUH TO US HUHU HUH...." "NO MAN IS OUR MATCH! HUH HUH HUH HUH" "WE ARE MUS HUH HUH HU HUH HUH MUSCLE HUH GAWDS!" [ (The man begins to spew his load of hot seamen everywhere his body, cock, and balls still inflating and growing as his blowing.) "C'MON FUCKER KEEP GROWING!... .... ...GAWD! OH MY FUCKIN' GAWD! (He continues to swell and blow....)] "YES! BIGGER! STRONGER! HUH HU H HUH AIIII OOH! GAWD! I...IIIIII" Joshua bucks and humps the air as he goes into orgasmic spasms. His hand jerking towards his right. "OOOOOOOH DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN!" Brent sees Joshua's involuntary motion, but goes into orgasm as he tries to roll to his right to avoid the cum shot. Instead he rolls to the right, but his head jerks back to the left, his mouth receiving the first full blast from Joshua's skin cannon. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK AUH AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" Darien goes into orgasm, leaning forward and screaming not aware of the trajectory Brent has just sent his load into. It makes its mark right into Darien's open scream, who then jerks back on its taste sending his spunk to the right. "YESSSS YESSSSS! GROWING BIGGER AND BIGGER! HUH HUH HUH WHOO! WHOOO'S A MUSCLE HUH HUH GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWD!" Andrixos scoots down the bed, his head collapsing into the pillow that would've received Darien's volley, but now it makes contact with Andrixos' mouth. His body convulses and twists to the left, and he has an orgasmic release that at first is all release of tension and then suddenly tightens so fast and hard, it cause his body to convulse to the left and thrust his pelvis up high. Creating an arc of spoo that goes soaring over Darien, Brent, and into panting lips of Joshua who's attempting to recover from a most powerful release. Swallowing, coughing, the four gasp and spit and swallow, trying to regain their composure and senses. Attempting to get feeling back into their feet and hands, allowing their fingers and toes to uncurl. Shivering, shaking, they pass out into a horny oblivion. ***************************************************************************** * During the night, the four men have hot and fevered dreams. Each one in their own fashion sees his self continuing to grow, to pack on muscle, to become more hung, their bodies becoming ultimate paragons of towering strength, power, and virility. All other men a small compared to them and they are shrinking by the minute. These men are becoming gods....TITANS! The same one who woke everyone yesterday will wake everyone again. He has dreamed that he has grown so big and so powerful, his pinky tow alone covers a metropolis of millions of people and their sky scrapers. A blimp too small for his eyes attempts to show him pictures of the people crowding around, rubbing, and jacking off on his feet, worshipping him madly. His cock springs into action soaring up and Up and UP! Such a massive meat monster it is it dwarfs the Empire State building by two, three, four times its size! He strokes as he pops his other arm's bicep and bounces his pecs, laughing lightly at how like fleas humankind has become to him. Suddenly he releases a load that cascades down in a deadly torrent. The first shot alone floods the city. The second takes the support or foundations out of building causing them to collapse. The third volley causes his sperm to spread out and empty into the sea or travel across plains.... Suddenly he is awake. His cock is still spewing. He tries to clear his head, knowing that the sensation is wrong due to the dream. Yet, he knows... he knows he's spewing more spoo than he did just the night before. Now... he must pee. Wincing in pain as he pulls back the sheet. He can feel the dried cum that became glue from last night, binding his skin and the sheet as one. He can still feel his cock giving up more spunk as it pools on the mattress a bit. He stumbles and fumbles his way to the bathroom, stooping a little because of how tired he is. He points his cock at the toilet and urinates, then flushes. He thinks to himself, "I should go ahead and shower, get this dried spunk off of me." It is mere moments after the shower is turned on that he yelps out in horror. His three buddies again sit up in bed and turn their attention to the bathroom. Andrixos comes to run out the door when suddenly... WHAM! His head meets the door frame. Crumpling to the floor, Andrixos nearly loses consciousness, and remains in a haphazard seated position. "Did... did... I just see that right. Standing all the way, straight up.... did....did Andrixos just bang his head on the door frame?" "Yes, Joshua, you did." Said Darien and he flung the sheets off to stand and go check on his friend." "Good lord! " cried out Brent. "Darien! Look at yourself... you're.... you're... kind of built!" "So are you!" "So are we all." said Joshua. "We're all that mildly athletic to soccer player kind of build. You know just before you begin to look like a personal trainer." Darien gave a hand out to Andrixos. "Easy does it... tilt your head forward before you come through...." "Good....night... look how his leg muscles bunch and pop as he stands....oh my gawd....." "Look at how you, Joshua, rise a tent pole in the middle of the bed!" Sure enough from seeing how built and tall they were now, Joshua had begun to develop a chub. This was eventually done, willingly or no, by Brent and Darien as well. As Brent reached over and pulled the sheet off of Joshua... he let out a yelp of fear and then began to hold and strangle his penis as though he had a monster. "My gawd! This thing is like a foot and a half long now!" "And judging by the door frame," said Brent. "We're all now six foot - ten inches tall." The four sat or stood there in silence, in the room, staring at one another.
  13. Changing my Life - Part 11

    Hello everyone. I'm really sorry, I've been busy the last couple of weeks and didn't really know how I wanted this story to continue. But I have an idea of where I want this story to go, don't worry. If anyone has any suggestions, then please let me know as I love hearing your ideas . Thanks again for waiting and I truly hope you enjoy! Part I Part VI Part II Part VII Part III Part VIII Part IV Part IX Part V Part X Changing my Life Part XI We explained everything to the doc. from the incident that happened at the party, to the growth that happened in the shower. The doc listened to every detail. Afterwards he told us that he was shocked to hear about Max taking all the pills. He also warned us that there was no way we could end his growth now. He wanted to see Max for himself. He made us an appointment for the next morning. After our conversation, Max and I went to bed. After the shower incident, I had no problem falling asleep. Neither did Max. That night I dreamed about Max and me, lying on the sofa in the living room. I was lying on top of Max’s thick legs. We were both looking at the television when all of a sudden, I heard him moan. I looked up to see his face. He was biting his lips and closing his eyes. Looking down, I saw his shirt tightening and I felt my head tilting higher and higher. Was he growing? I asked myself when I heard an all too familiar sound… Riiiiiiiip! His bulging pecs pushed the fabric to its limits and exploded out of them. His head was rising up and up, whilst his muscles expanded in every direction. His veins were visible again and they too grew thicker. His moaning increased and he started sweating and panting at this point. I sat up to see his beautiful growing body. I could hear the sofa creaking underneath his growing form. “I can’t take it anymore!” he said when he ripped of his tight shorts off. It didn’t take long before he started working on his growing dick. It seemed to be three times the size of my own. And I was already big down there. His balls expanded and started swelling, making room for gallons of cum to eventually erupt out of a mammoth sized dick. His head was now pushing against the ceiling and with a loud crack the sofa broke. Max’s giant arse was now digging into the floor whilst his head was breaking the ceiling. I still sat on a broken sofa, looking up at a magnificent beast. There wasn’t much I could do then to stare in awe and work on my own growing member. Somehow, I didn’t feel as scared as I used to be. It felt like this was something that I wanted to happen just as much as he did. I got my dick out and started stroking it. It was already painfully hard and leaking pre. Then I heard a loud crash in front of me. Max’s feet tore down the walls to make room for a still growing body. Max’s head eventually broke the ceiling and grew bigger and bigger! “I need some help here babe!” he said in a deeper voice in-between moans. I got up and climbed on top of his bulging legs. Finally, I was in front of the most beautiful dick in the world. I didn’t hesitate and ran up to it. My tongue was worshipping his giant meat. “Oh god, I love you so much!” he screamed looking at me. I got so horny looking at his gorgeous face mounted on to a hot bodybuilders body. He got his giant hand up flexed for me. “You like that babe?” he said whilst winking at me. I came looking at his giant biceps. My cum looked like a little drop compared to his huge drops of pre. It didn’t take long before I heard him scream one last time before a hose of cum hit the ceiling and landed on top of me. He didn’t show any sign of stopping and the floor became a white, hot pool of cum. His legs disappeared and shortly after, I found myself swimming. I looked behind me to see that his giant dick was still erupting cum. Then I was just centimetres away from the ceiling. I held my breath before the cum completely filled the room. I jumped up in bed when I awoke from my arousing dream. I first looked next to me to find Max, still at the same height as before (well you know, still the big version). I looked the opposite side to look at the window. The sun was rising. Beams of light hit my face. My phone buzzed as I saw a notification, reminding me that we had our appointment within 3 hours. I tossed my blanket and wanted to stand up only to find out that my underpants were drenched in cum. I smiled at the sight and walked across the bed, where Max was sleeping. I kneeled in front of him and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sunshine.” I said smiling at him. He awoke with his gorgeous smile on his face and said in his manly deep voice “Morning beautiful.” He tossed the blankets aside only to show me his wonderful body. Glistering with sweat, his bulging pecs were bigger than ever, his abs were even deeper and broader, his titanic sized arms were bigger than I remembered, veins popping up all over his body! He slowly sat up straight on the bed. The wooden frame creaking under his enormous weight. Placing his feet on the ground, I noticed just how big they were. One leg was almost as big as both of mine together (I think I mentioned that before but still)! Not to mention his big dick… it was as long as my forearm! And it wasn’t even hard yet! As he stretched his giant frame, he stood up… and up… and up. I couldn’t get my eyes off of him. He was so big and handsome. To think that this gorgeous figure was my boyfriend, MY lover, it was beyond my beliefs. Still mesmerised at his body I couldn’t speak; “I erm…. I g… got a noti…” before I could finish my sentence, he added; “Yeah I know, I heard your phone too.” Then he walked towards me and tossed his meaty arm around me and squeezed my ass before giving me the most passionate kiss. I could just feel how much more dominant he has gotten in the last couple of weeks. I don’t mind it though. The thought of him being bigger and stronger but still being so gentle and kind, turned me on so much. After the kiss he looked me in my eyes and said “Do you know how happy I am to have you in my life?” I just melted when he said it, my feet were like jelly. He grabbed me, lifted me up and carried me downstairs. I made him a very big meal, starting with 3 eggs, bacon, some sandwiches, sausages, yoghurt and a glass of milk. He ate all of it and afterwards grabbed some leftovers from the fridge. More and more I was feeling pleased with him growing. Seeing him devour so much food was so delightful to watch. When we were finished, we went back upstairs to freshen up and get dressed for our appointment. Max, however, had trouble containing his strength. He broke the doorframe when entering the bathroom, he broke his toothbrush and comb, knocked the light fixture to the ground and broke the handle from the wardrobe. It was exciting but scary at the same time. Being unaware of his strength even made him a bit frightened. In the wardrobe, I helped Max dressing up. The clothes I bought for him that were once loose enough for him, now seemed just big enough or skin-tight. His socks were stretched out and his briefs didn’t hide anything. His dickhead was poking out of them whilst his derrière ripped them off every time he sat down. His trousers were fine, the buttons were hard to close but it worked once we put on his belt. Shirts weren’t an option. The buttons flew off like his pecs were firing them right at me. So we tried just a regular T-shirt. It fitted him nicely. Finally we added some Nike shoes and his look was completed. I backed up for a second to see his entire body with his clothes on. He looked good but you could definitely see that he was no ordinary man. You could easily mistake him for an athlete or a bodybuilder. I must have been staring to long because Max said; “Is my personal shopper pleased with his choice of clothing?” I laughed and replied “You look good Max, you really do.” He walked up to me and kissed me once more. “Thanks to you babe.” I blushed and smiled at his gorgeous face. We packed our stuff and were on our way to the doc. In the car we listened to some of our favourite music. Max and I had different tastes in music. He liked listening to rock whilst I enjoyed pop music. Though we both enjoyed some Michael Jackson, Meghan Trainor and Britney Spears. Singing along was one of the things I enjoyed doing in the car. It made the trip more enjoyable. Max, however, had to put on a show. Singing ‘Hit me baby one more time’, he raised his voice to mimic Britney’s. But due to his much deeper voice, it made for a laughable performance. These were the moments I looked into his eyes and realised that, even though he’s still growing, he’s still that sweet childish boy I fell in love with. Soon we entered Mr. Petrov’s house. Not much has changed since the last time we were here. I knocked on the door and heard from the other end a familiar voice, “I’m coming!” The doc. said. He opened the front door and let us enter. When we entered, I could hear the wooden floor creaking under Max’s weight. I knew that the house was old so I was somewhat worried that Max might break something. However we didn’t spend much time in the doc.’s living area. He directed us back towards his lab. When we entered his lab, there was a chair in the middle of the room with some cables above it. I saw Max’s face. He seemed frightened and sad at the same time. I tried to comfort him by resting my hand on his massive shoulder. He looked back at me and smiled once again. we walked up close to the chair. The doc. asked him to remove his clothes except his briefs. Afterwards he Max looked at the doc. for further instructions. “Max, please take a seat.” The doc. ordered. Max did what he was told and the doc attached the wires to his body. Placing them on his head, neck, shoulders, arms, chest, back, … “What is going to happen to me?” Max asked in a sad tone. “I’ll have to take some samples and check your body in order to know what is going to happen with you Max.” The doc said in a serious tone. We exchanged looks and shortly after he asked me to go into the room behind me. I looked around to find a small door with a mirror besides it. “Max, Jake and I will be in that room over there checking your condition. You’ll feel a few shocks but don’t worry it’ll only hurt for a second okay?” the doc. said. Max nodded and looked back at me again. I walked up to him and caressed his cheek. “You’ll be fine babe, I know you will.” I said before giving him a long kiss. I was guided to the small control room where the doc closed the door and turned his head towards me. “Listen Jake, after you told me all about what had happened, I had to bring the both of you here.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “The Max that you know and love, won’t be the same after this treatment.” He said sitting down on the chair opposite the window. “Why! What is going on doc.?!” I was getting really mad and confused now. The doc. sighted and continued; “The encounter you had in the shower with Max, those will only become more aggressive and they’ll happen more frequent. It’s one of the side effects that can occur during this procedure. He would have been able to control this urge by only taking one pill. But since he took all of them, he probably won’t be able to in the future.” He said looking down at his notes. I had to sit down and think about what he just said. I was speechless and sad. Tears began to form in my eyes. “Can’t he learn to control this urge… or can’t you give him some medication to calm him down when it happens?” I started asking, trying to find a solution for his problem. “Listen Jake. He’ll only become stronger and bigger. There’s little we can do about it now.” He said starting his computer and connecting it with this machine in front of us. “Let’s check his body first.” He said. I looked in up to see that the mirror actually was window from the other side. I could see Max all wired up and anxious. I felt like I could scream. If it were true that the Max I know would turn into a beast or a lover that could kill me, was just devastating. I could hear a ding sound and looked down to see a body image on the doc’s computer. It was already recognizing Max’s body and it showed where the cables were connected. I don’t know a lot about technology but it was quite impressive to see. In the left corner of the screen, I could see his blood pressure and his heartbeat along with his weight and height. “I’m going to give him shocks on the places you see here on the screen. I’ll be able to make a rough sketch on how big Max will grow. If you don’t want to look, I understand.” The doc said looking at me. I was a bit confused as to why I didn’t want to see Max but shortly after my answer was given. The doc. selected the dot on the shoulder and it automatically gave Max a shock. I saw him scream and closing his eyes whilst his body was fighting against the pain. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I saw my boyfriend being tortured. I wanted it to end and walked towards the door but was stopped by the doc. “You can’t leave Jake, I know that this must be killing you inside but try to understand that I only want to help you guys.” He said holding my hand really tight in order for me to stay put. I hesitated but eventually nodded and walked back to my place. However I couldn’t watch Max. It was too painful to see him in this state. After the doc. finished, the computer was loading some kind of a chart along with some percentages. I didn’t have time to find out what it said as the doc. placed the computer on his table and took out a syringe. “Is he afraid of syringes?” he asked before walking out. “A little but I’ll calm him down.” I said wiping away my tears and exiting the chamber. As I walked towards Max, it was so hard to see him. He looked exhausted. “Max are you okay?” I asked trying to hold my tears back. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” He said positioning his big frame in a more comfortable position whilst the doc. detached the wires. He looked at me and I looked back at Max. I knew what was coming next. “Okay babe, the doc has to take some blood to run some tests okay. Can you be brave for me?” I asked. I knew he was brave enough already but I also knew how much he hated syringes. He took my hand and squeezed it whilst the doc took his blood. He squeezed my hand so much I had to get down from the pain. “Ah! Max please you’re hurting me!” I screamed. Max looked shocked and released my flimsy hand. When the doc. had the sample he told us that the results would be completed once he gave the machine Max’s blood (or something like that I don’t know exactly what he said). He went back into the chamber and gave us a moment alone. Max tried standing up but he was so tired that even that was hard for him to do. So instead I sat down on top of him and hugged him. “I’m so sorry.” He said and started crying “I never should’ve taken all those pills at once.” I couldn’t hold back and started crying too. “It’s okay babe. I understand why you did it. But we have to be strong now.” I said in between sobs. Then it was silent. We were both so comfortable in each other’s arms that we didn’t need to talk. We were there for each other. That was the most important right now. The doc. returned shortly after and looked surprisingly happy. He approached us with some papers and started talking to us. Max’s body seemed to be growing steadily and would probably reach a height of four to six meters! This was a bit hard to take in. However his body also seemed to have very healthy blood cells. Every time they found a virus or an illness they eliminate them… he believed it had something to do with a self-healing process. “Max, I had my doubts but I think it’s safe to say that you are going to be fine.” He said smiling at the both of us. I never felt this happy in my life. My boyfriend would be okay! I hugged him and kissed him. We started crying again but this time they were tears of happiness. “However, I still want to warn you!” The doc. said in a more serious tone again. “You have to learn to control your strength. If you don’t, you might end up hurting the ones you love.” He said looking at me. I knew exactly what he meant but before I could say anything, Max started talking. “I will doc. I don’t want to hurt anybody. Especially not this little one.” He said playfully squeezing my ass. “Good, now I will keep in contact with you and will require a weekly check-up.” He said leading us back to the front door. I thanked him and told him we would update him on Max’s transformation this time. He thanked us and told us that if we needed anything or needed any help, we could always contact him.
  14. Lemme know if you guys like this story. I like the feedback Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9354-basically-a-god/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12786-basically-a-god-part-2/ Part 3 I groaned as I tried to lift the heavy weight over my body. The darkness didn’t help me find my grip but the form of Johnny’s arm alone gave me a mental map of where each massive, hyper lean muscle was. Johnny had fallen asleep over me as we were watching another cartoon superhero movie in the building’s massive cinema inspired theater between the upper and lower floors. Somewhere in the middle, I guess, the massive arm Johnny had put at the head of my seat had become dead weight and fallen on top of me, placing what felt like bricks made of steel on my lap. I wish I had more lighting to tell if Johnny was just fucking with me or not but Johnny was so insistent on a theater room identical to a movie theater that we had to sit at the very back of the theater to avoid Johnny’s big head and traps blocking the light directed at the large screen, now rolling credits. As I heard snoring several feet above me, it became clear that Johnny really had fallen asleep and this was not one of his usual pranks on me. I actually wondered if he really was sleep, though. Johnny’s enhanced brain functions probably made his sleeping much lighter and, therefore, he could very well be both in a state where he was both asleep and awake, watching over his own body and also having a dream about creating a nuclear reactor capable of fueling all of the world’s energy for the next century. At the realm Johnny’s powers had recently reached, nobody could really know. Johnny’s ability to bend the world around him with or without his will was daunting. Yes, he loved to appear the hero to people but I doubt that he’d be able to control the desire in people to want to watch him do his daily “chores”. Chores for him were the basics: blow out a few fires in the city, help with a bit of construction in a few spots around the block. “It’s all to keep my powers in check” he’d say as he would be lifting something like his magnetic weight set, set to a weight that he could keep an eye on and talk to me at the same time as we’d be watching TV on the leather couch on the top floor. “My powers are growing so fast, I’m coming too close to putting people in danger at this speed.” I was pretty much incapable of denying that logic (as usual). The last few years of Johnny’s ascent into an mighty superhero had led to many accidents along the way. I couldn’t count the number of doorknobs that needed replacements or the number of doorways that needed to be rebuilt. When he’d first reached at least some form of reasonable superhuman power, he’d lifted a fire truck over his head and had quickly gotten the hang of curling them on his daily workouts. He’d once almost broken a woman in half after catching her during a skydiving fiasco, a move he’d seen from one of the earliest Superman movies. The woman, now paralyzed from the waist down due to the impact of her body hitting two hyper dense arms, still sent postcards of her trips around the world, paid by Johnny’s financial advisor. These were only incidents from almost half a decade ago. Now it was more serious of an issue as we moved from our small town in the Midwest to New York. When we’d first arrived, Johnny wasn’t his “small” 6’4 height anymore. He was nearly 7 feet tall at that point, and almost 3 feet wide. People on the sidewalk jumped out of the way of him as he’d still not quite gotten used to having to maneuver not to knock people into walls and such. Cars weren’t like that though. Thankfully, Johnny’s brand of unnatural attraction made it very easy to convince the man that he liked his car better in the shape of a U. That’s the area where I realized Johnny liked to live, in the grayest area between hero and not. The reason I guessed he was sleeping now and using his arm like a paper weight on my comparatively feeble body, now exceeding my waist in width by 10 inches at 38 cold, was due to the fact that he’d taken me on his usual chores. I was beside myself as I’d watched him save a woman from getting mugged in the deeper parts of New York, saved a bank from a man attached to a bomb by throwing him into the sky upon detonation, and then mowed the lawns of a few old women in New Jersey. The last one’s key because he’d done it using nothing but heat vision, a power he’d said before had the heat intensity to burn several buildings and had leveled an old mountain pass owned by the doctors leading the “Johnny Project”. It had happened in a red flash, my momentary blindness only secondarily important as I started at Johnny’s work. Each leaf of grass had been trimmed perfectly, each one perfectly matched to its friends without a single trace of the expected burn marks. Johnny just rewarded me with a toothy smug grin as he’d proved how much control he had over his powers. He’d gone on to do this for most of the day, only stopping after his phone, tailored to his significant size and made extra durable, buzzed against his iron hard butt cheek, clad in only his everyday, spandex uniform. It was at that point that it was clear to me that he wasn’t at all like your text book superhero. It was a call leading to a PR event made to another one of the charities he supported with his deep, deep pockets. He fit right in with the mother millionaires and billionaires at the party naturally. After all, he was the richest man in the country, funded with more money than was given to half of your average state. I won’t call him corrupt like some of the others I met at that PR event. He spent an extremely large portion of his funds on charities inside and outside the country, a move coming from the justice loving side of him as he truly believed, as he said to me before, “rich people in this country need to worry about helping their own country as much as any other”. However, the other side of him was a lot greedier. I saw as Johnny’s eyes were quickly fixed on the tight dresses of many of the women at the event. I groaned as I quickly realized I’d be taking a taxi home when I saw him eye Sandra Daxon, the richest woman on the eastern border of north America. I groaned again when I realized he’d wrangled her and a group of women I saw quickly dislodge their engagement and wedding rings from their fingers before coming up to him to try and flirt. These realizations were the perfect backdrop for when I realized he wasn’t even going to stay for the whole event as he’d finished his speech, his deep voice making the women he’d flirted with coo and want him more. Meeting back at the present, he’d left the girl’s lying in his bedroom, tiring them all out after 3 hours of non-stop sex. I’d learned early, back when we’d still lived in the Midwest, that Johnny’s sex drive was a really unfathomable thing. He’d had sex with many of the young women in our town (maybe more than the amount he’d told me about) and practically had fucked them through the floor in the mansion he used to own before coming to New York and having his hulking tower built. I remember each night he’d brought a bushel of women with him, their eyes fixated on him and their faces almost zombie like as they’d come to be taken and conquered by the behemoth he was. Then, he’d gone for 6 straight hours of fucking, my bed room below his having been shaken by the movements and sounds above. I doubted he was ever really sated the way he vanished 50% of the day and just returned with a grin on his face, the normal hop in his step. I dared to look down at his muscles in the light of the movie’s projector reaching the end of its contents and flashing a white screen on the theater. Johnny’s white tee shirt and white shorts did nothing to hide the power his nearly 8 foot body coveted. Each ab was in bold and blocky relief as he lay on his lower back, the seats in the theater recently becoming too small to hold his big butt unless he sat straight up. His knees were bending the seats set in front of him like they were made of rubber and his legs were spread wide, making it difficult for me to find a way out from under his arm. I could feel his big lat pressing down on me as he stretched out. Defeated, I let the weight push me down, fastening me to my seat. I couldn’t see Johnny’s face past his massive shoulders and shelf like chest but what I could see made my cock bounce feebly against the weight Johnny’s massive forearm. With his bulging thighs spread, Johnny’s massive cock sat on his shorts, the space inside looking cramped as his cock stretched down between his legs. Was it always that big? My eyebrows raised when I saw a jump in his struggling crotch. The mound was like an anaconda, stretching bigger in search of an opening from its cloth prison. I was impressed the pants were able to contain so much of Johnny as his pants started to pop and tear. His cock straightened over time and pitched a tent in his pants that was getting taller and taller as he slept. I dared reach for my cock and try and cover it but it was useless, his arm was immovable and wouldn’t budge an inch for me. I was indefinitely pressed against the wall as Johnny began to move in his sleep. I watched he reached his opposite hand down to the bulge in his pants and began to massage it with his big hands, the comparison between the hand and the hidden beast becoming phenomenal as it stretched longer and longer. A foot and a half....... Two feet........... two feet and a half..............more! Johnny’s cock was a leviathan roaring out of its prison. The stretching shorts completely tore and the whole only widened as the godly endowment grew. I dared to wonder if it would grow bigger than me as it reached up to Johnny’s far reaching pectorals and continued to stretch and stretch. I quivered as I felt Johnny’s body becoming hotter as his cock reached higher and his balls hung lower. His lap was beginning to overfill with ball sack. I could see the veins on his balls as they looked overstretched yet they still pumped more and more inhuman cum to remain full and bloated. How big could this monster get, I wondered as my own cock continued to pointlessly move against Johnny’s might. When it finally reached its max size, it probably reached higher than his head. The massive cock was probably so thick that it was potentially impossible to fit through some doors. Johnny, rubbing against the 8 foot mark with his heat, probably could have poked the usual 9 foot ceiling easily with the monster hovering above the ground like a leaning tower of penis. It’s perfect form was graced with several veins that made its reddened surface appear vascular and intimidating. I couldn’t see Johnny’s face but the moaning vibrating through his body into me couldn’t be anything less than the power of his deep, baritone voice, shaking everything around him with its strength. I’d stopped moving as I realized that my fate was sealed the moment his cock began to drop what appeared to be the thickest pre-cum, dripping it down into the seat in front of us. I only had moments to admire the testament to manhood before I felt the limbs around me move. I kept trying to use the movement to get out from under Johnny but it took three attempts to realize three things. One, he wasn’t moving, Johnny was perfectly still. Two, there definitely wasn’t any chance of me escaping. Three, Johnny’s muscles were growing. I looked around my head and realized Johnny’s muscles were bloating and swelling, their hardness and weight the only thing to remain. I was pressed more roughly into the seat I was in and felt like I was having trouble breathing as his body swelled without getting taller. Muscles bulged and grew more veined, my strength becoming more pathetic as Johnny seemed to be revealing his true form. I raised my head in a direction that would give a chance to see as I continued to watch this godly event, the pain in my chest and legs seeming unimportant as Johnny’s hand moved. It moved slowly at first, moving up the terrifying large length of his cock. Muscles collided powerfully as his now bigger bicep collided with his now larger and more dominant chest. His perfect superhero like form had swollen to a beautifully grotesque form where, regardless of his impressive grace, he couldn’t avoid colliding muscles to muscles. His cock appeared angry and extremely volatile as, after each stroke, it oozed a little more of its clear honey like liquid, dripping down and soaking the seats further down as the closest one. I felt sorry for the cleaning ladies who’d have to wipe this up. Or was I? A mix of emotions were hitting me that I seemed to have no time to register as I felt suffocated by Johnny’s ill controlled muscles. I felt like he would crush me under his size and power at this rate as he continued to rub his monster cock undisturbed and unaffected by my struggling. I tried to scream or shout his name but it was useless. I had a feeling I’d die like this as I felt my mind ebb and my eye sight fade to darker colors. I gasped and breathed for air, thinking I’d die to him. Die to this god. Johnny had warned me that he had to train his powers daily to be able to contain all of this power and avoid hurting anyone. It had just taken his unconscious body moments away from crushing me to the wall for me to realize it. I was ready to die and sacrifice myself when the massive arm, how wider than my chest, finally moved and I took a deep breath. Johnny had switched to wielding his big meat with two hands, still not even coming close to wrapping around the godly weapon. Johnny’s arm muscles were colliding with his chest as his body was moving to please him, what I assume, unconsciously. My cock was now sticking from my jeans roughly and bouncing up and down trying not to react to the heat Johnny was emitting. I heard him grunt and each burst of deep vibration made me quiver in my seat. I rubbed the snake in my pants, ignoring the fact that I’d almost died to this supreme being, and watched as his rubbing became more rapid. It was then I noticed that the ground was shaking little by little. I worried if the building could handle this much power as the rumbling shook the room and the lighting that was coming from the lights in the wall began to flicker after only just coming on. “You’ve got control to level a fucking lawn but you can’t keep from destroying your own building in your sleep??” I tried to call to him but he clearly couldn’t hear me over the vibrating building. At the literal moment before the eruption, I thought I heard a ringing sound as though a bomb had gone off. Then, like a military tank’s cannon, a white burst of cum shot from his cock and hit the walls. The ground shook and Johnny’s groaning was now supernatural as I could still hear his unnaturally deep voice rumbling through my chest. His cock fired volley upon volley for what seemed like an eternity. Cum was dripping from the ceiling and dripping down the aisles as cum fired from Johnny. The thin fabric of the movie screen had torn and left gaping holes. Plaster was falling from the ceiling with the cum rain. Glass cracked, seats bent out of shape. Johnny was large but he was massive but his cock was destroying things from meters away. I could guess that his power was strong enough to shred a car to pieces as holes and craters littered the walls, dripping cum as well. It had taken a full 10 minutes before Johnny’s massive cock and balls had finally halted their assault and left the room silent except for my heavy panting, the dripping of cum from every surface, and his deep breathing before he returned to his snoring. Being behind him had rescued me from the onslaught of his cock as he lay there in his destroyed pants, his cock still massive and throbbing like a normal cock at 20 times the size. There was no doubt in my mind his cock was almost if not as big as I was. My fixation, however, was on the fact that I’d survived this disaster. With a popping snore, Johnny jumped awake and lazy looked down at me over his chest and raised his arm. “Hey, buddy, what’s up?” he asked before looking around. When he saw his cock and the destruction it had caused. “Oh.”
  15. The Iron Bug - Part V

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.
  16. Second service.

    I'm feeling inspired lately It was our traditional friday night beer, at our usual gay pub. I met with three or four friends to down a few beers, and then a few more beers, get tipsy, take the best leak of the week, and then finally go home, eating some greasy take away. I love those evenings; it’s the best way to blow off some steam, talk some shit and have a great laugh. I knew all the patrons at that pub, so it wasn’t unusual that I’d hear someone shout my name to get my attention. “Oh my god! Is that you Tony?!” I heard behind me. I turned and froze. Half of me knew exactly who that man was; the other half refused to acknowledge it. Kevin Cox (yes, that is his real name. Kevin motherfucking Cox). My ex boyfriend. Not just my ex boyfriend...my ex boyfriend from high school. We were together from 15 to 20. Last time I saw him was 10 years ago, when I dumped him. “Kevin? Oh my… I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s been been forever. You look great buddy,” I stuttered. He did look great, but the two main reasons were that my most recent memory of him was a 20 years-old acneic boy, crying his eyeballs out so much that he had a running nose, and then shouting at me that “IcouldnotdumphimbecausehestilllovedmethatwasunfairandIwasacoldheartedbitch” with such force, that his face was red and had veins poping out. So yeah, that alone was a major source of improvement. The second reason was he did actually look great. He was a bit taller than I remembered, and had obviously been hitting the gym. He had beefy shoulders and arms, pecs showing under his tee, tight flat midsection and his legs stretched his jeans in an almost indecent way. “Thanks you,” he beamed, “you look amazing too. You even lost the little fat you had as a teen,” he said way too loud, putting his huge mitts on each side of my midsection. Asshole. I did have a bit of chub around my waist 10 years ago, and I went to great lengths to get rid of it. I even became quite athletic. Nothing like him, to be honest, but still decent. I smiled warmly trying not to show that he had hit a sensitive spot. But I’m sure he knew it. Kevin was, and still is, extremely clever. Too clever for his own good, and for the good of others, since he is a major sociopath. When I started dating him at 15 I was on cloud nine. He was handsome, he had a goofy smile and a face so adorable, everybody found him endearing. That feeling tended to disappear shortly after you got acquainted with him, though. He hated people, he was a convinced misanthrope, he only loved book and sports. When I say sports, please understand I mean performance...his performance. He’d do track n’ field and swimming at a high level, and was obsessed with his results. At first,all his entourage was relieved that he came out and found himself a lovely, cute, popular boyfriend (me, obviously). But, as the only human he deemed worthy of his affection, I rapidly became one of his pet obsessions and every means to keep me by his side was good. Over our five years together, he developed an eating disorder that he tried to force on me, cut me off from all my friends and shamed me about my body and my preoccupations that he deemed frivolous. And he dealt with our breakup the same way he dealt with anything not going his way: by throwing a major tantrum and being an abusive twat. That being said, you’d think I’d punch that toxic, piece of shit in the throat and walk away. I would have, if it wasn’t for the following three key element. One, it was ten years ago and people change over the course of ten years (or so I wanted to believe). Two, he’s hot, and I try to avoid antagonizing thick, strong, hot, cute, thirty-year old men, since they might be mating partners, even if just for a night. Three, I’m terrible at making decisions. “ I’d never have thought I’d run into you,” he said. “ After all I did to you, I was sure you’d avoid me like plague.” “ Actually I was,” I slipped. “Ouch. Fair enough,” he laughed. “What are you drinking? I’d love to catch up with you handsome! ” “Beer, obviously.” I said, raising my almost empty pint. We downed many beers. Much more than I usually do. We talked about what we did over the last ten years. Where we both were in our lives now. And so on until it was past midnight. I was halfway between tipsy and wasted, when I decided it was time to move on with my friday night routine : peeing, eating takeaway, going home. First, taking a piss. I don’t care much for bodily waste fluid evacuations but the friday night piss, after a shitload of pints, is just the best feeling ever. “ I’m gonna go take a leak,” I said to Kevin. “ Same here. Lead the way,” he answered. So, we went to the bathroom, I positioned myself on one of the urinals, he respected the bathroom etiquette by leaving an empty one between him and me. I heard him unzip and take a quick powerful piss. Meanwhile, I was struggling with my zipper, and my feelings. He was done before I had even opened my fly. “ Tony? Are you seriously that wasted?!” he laughed, getting behind me. He reached around me and undid my fly, slightly pulling down my jean and reaching my underwear. He grabbed my dick with one hand, pulling on my foreskin so I could pee while the other hand steadied my hips. I lean back on his powerful torso and started releasing myself. Fuck that was the best piss of my life. As I emptied, I hardened between Kevin’s fingers. Once done I was painfully hard and Kevin gave me two slow strokes. “I missed you Tony,” he breathed, in my ear. The whole scene was surreal. But before long, he tugged my hardon back in my briefs, zipped up my jeans, and let go of me. I almost fell backward. He chuckled. “Let’s go to my place.” A few minutes later, we were back to his place. It was spotless and clinical. Everything was white; it wasn’t so much a bias, than an utter lack of taste. White neutral furniture, sofa, appliance, it looked almost like a fake space. The only sign of someone actually living here, was the numerous and gigantic piles of books, DVDs and CDs everywhere. “First, shower,” he said, pushing me in the equally white bathroom. He undressed unceremoniously and I did the same. As we stood face to face naked, I became very aware of our size difference. I watched us in the mirror on the opposite wall. I was almost 6’, I keep myself trim, I workout to be tight, strong and defined. I keep my body hair clipped short all over. My face is quite angular and I have clear, brown, unruly hair, a short 3 day beard, and blue eyes. He was over 6’, his pale body naturally hairless, except for nice untrimmed bush above his big dick. His body would have looked sof,t but the muscle popping under the skin, and his perfect shape, gave a totally different impression, especially his shoulders to waist ratio. He looked intimidating and powerful. His face was clean shaved, with that still boyish look, and he had black eyes and his hair was a weird shade of dull black. I was both intimidated and totally horned up. I was rock hard. He was all smiles and looked down to his slowly rising manhood. I followed his gaze and my heart stopped. As the magnificent dick hardened, I realized he was dwarfing me down there too. He must have been around 9’,’ and it was sort of thick. Last time I saw him, we were almost the same size down there. I couldn’t help but feel sort of jealous. “Let’s get cleaned up, so we can get dirty,” He said. We both hopped into the shower. The enclosed space made me even more aware of how large he was compared to me now. I was even still wrapping my head around how much larger he was, and that idea of growth got my engines revving. He pressed his body against mine, kindly turning me, caressing my ass, fingering me. I never loosened up that fast, and when he presented his cockhead on my hole, I was shocked to realize that the foreplay and hot water had me ready in a matter of minutes. He didn’t ask or say anything, he just grabbed me by the hips and entered me. We both gasped. I felt his bush against my crack, and before he could even do a single back and forth, I felt his grip tighten unbearably, his whole body shook violently, he almost tripped in the shower, I felt his dick pulse inside me and deliver a fat burning load. I was dumbfounded. “Fuck!” he cursed, “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Aw fuck,” panting, “ I’m sorry,” more panting, “fuck you feel so good. Just gimme five minutes and I’ll be ok to go again. Fuck!” He pulled out and we finished showering. He was truly vexed, his face was closed, and his demeanor much less gentle than a few moment ago. Still, I was somehow happy to see this, instead of one of the tantrums he would have had years ago. I imagined his larger, stronger self, having one of his outbreaks of rage that I had been been familiar with. My blood froze. He must have felt that I was drifting to a dark place. He suddenly focused back on me, and pull me in to cuddle and rinse me. Once out, he towelled me off, and we move to his living room, where we crashed on his couch and started making out. In a matter of seconds he was hard again. He grabbed lube, from god knows where, and lubed his hard, big dick. “This time, I’ll make sure you get your fill,” he chuckled. He laid me on my back, lifted my legs, and started aligning with my hole. He slid in without any resistance. I can not believe I took such a massive cock so easily. He adjusted his position on his knees in front of the couch, while I was flat on my back. He squared his shoulders, puffed his impressive chest, and started thrusting strongly at a regular rhythm. Kevin was alway one for steady, powerful, unimaginative sex. And to be honest, I loved that strong, and to-the-point sort of shag. Before long, we were both sweating heavily, and he had a maniacal smile on his face. “I waited so long for this,“ he growled, “I can’t believe it!” He flexed one of his thick arms and the biceps bulged. My eyes were glued to this display of muscle, and I was almost drooling. His smile turned into a smirk and he lowered his arm so I could grab it and feel it. Had it been possible, my dick would have gone harder. “I remember you had a thing for muscles,“ he mused, between rhythmical thrusts. I suddenly vividly remembred the day he found my pornstash, filled with Hsmuscleboi drawings, photomorphs and bodybuilding pics. I love outrageously massive muscle, and when he found out, he gave me hell, and made sure I felt like a deviant freak. Once again, he felt the uneasiness of the situation. His fucking slowed down to a soft, slow, back and forth, and he covered my body with his. “I know I haven’t always been good to you. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you now,“ he purred, kissing my neck. I started freaking out inside, as I realised Kevin wanted back in my life. I mean he’s hot, and hung, and muscular, and a great fuck, but I wasn’t exactly planning on taking him back, and the mere idea of having to break it to him after sex was panicking me. He straightened, ready to resume his pounding. “I actually have a surprise just for you. I know you’ll love it,” he said, producing a little bottle, filled with pills, from somewhere by the couch. “Wait, how did you know we’d meet?” I asked, as he dry-swallowed pills from the bottle. “What the fuck? Are you taking drugs?!” He laid one of his thick hands on my chest, stroking me softly and trying to calm me. “This isn’t drugs! Seriously, you know me I’d never take drugs. You’ll see,” he laughed, “And yeah, I might have forced destiny a bit. I had to have you back,” he smiled, apologetically I felt rage, pride, affection, disgust, lust, and fear, mix inside me, but before one of those feelings took over, I noticed a shift in Kevin’s posture. “Fuuuuuuuck, it’s coming,” he rasped, locking eyes with me, “enjoy the show.” Kevin’s muscle started to grow. It was unmistakable. His size and definition were steadily increasing. That was just insane. He resumed his fucking and I started moaning, and he hit every spot inside me. What I saw was straight out of my wet dreams, veins poping on his body, feeding his growing muscles. His abs became more visible and his lats started to show. His pecs became more prominent; their shape becoming sharper and his nipples being forced down by the sheer mass of them. His shoulders widened again, and then so did his neck. He flexed his arms and I almost came. He was looking like a bodybuilder. His growth subsided and there was only fear and lust in me. “So what do you think,” he asked cockily. Fear finally took over, and I frantically tried to straighten on the couch, and hoist myself off of his dick. But he was fast, and before I could do it, he grabbed my waist and slammed me back on his dick. I let out a sharp cry out of surprise and pleasure. “For fuck sake Tony! Calm down,” he scowled at me “Seriously, I deserve another chance, I know I can give you what you need,” he said. He produced another pill and dry-swallowed it too. He saw the fear in my eyes and as he resumed his thrust much more slower this time he talked to me in calm voice. “I’m doing this for you Tony, I don’t like muscle, but I want to give you what you like. There it goes. I’ll be your muscleman Tony, and you could be my little worshiper,” he whispered. His body resumed its growth, and Kevin picked up the pace as he fucked me. I realised his dick was also slowly growing inside of me. I gasped, the increasing stretching feeling was starting to be quite noticeable. “Fuck, I missed you,” he kept rambling and growing. “I can’t believe I’m finally having you. After ten year,” he gritted his teeth, and his eyes started watering, veins popping on his muscular body. “I can’t fucking believe it. After you abandoned me for ten years,” he started thrusting harder. “Why you did this to me?!” and harder, “I fucking love you, and you dumped me!!!” and harder still. Kevin was slowly reaching the size of an heavyweight bodybuilder. He was pounding me like a mad man. He didn’t care if I liked it or not. He was using all his strength, which was increasing alongside his size. His newly augmented dick had gotten me so loose, that the cum from the load he fired in me while we showered started escaping me. His grip was almost hurting me, and he was punching my prostate with each thrust. This was some major revenge fuck; he was abusive and insane. The worst part, was that I had never been so turned on in my life. He flexed his arm, and the hypertrophied biceps swole, thick veins feeding the slowly inflating muscle. He started thrusting his dick at a vicious angle, each thrust forcing a sharp cry from me. “Look what you made me do,” he growled. “I’m becoming one of those ugly freaks you like for you. Fuck! I’m gonna be the biggest! You’ll never want to leave me once I’m done,” he smirked “This is how much I love you”. He laid himself on top of me, kissing me deeply. He was crushing me under his weight. His grip transformed into tender caresses. His pounding became less violent. He shoved my head in his pecs and flexed for me. He straightened again and looked down on me tenderly, while still fucking me. The view was breathtaking; he was bigger than a pro heavyweight bodybuilder. He wiped the tears from his face. “You’re not leaving me. Ever again,” he rasped, “you understand?” I could only nod, and sob. I had no other option, or he’d harm me or worst. His face softened, and a genuine look of concern took over his face. “Don’t cry baby. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, wiping my face with his thumb. “Come here,” he said, standing. He effortlessly carried me, still impaled on his dick. He hugged me against his massive frame. He was sweaty, burning hot and the stench of sweat was strong. He bobbed me up and down, like he was trying to comfort me but with more than 10’’ of dick buried in me, it made me gasp and tense in his arms. “There, there,” he whispered, “ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I did some work on myself, I’m better. I got better for you. I got bigger for you.” He started lifting me up and down on his dick building, a nice rhythm. “Hummmph, this is so good. You’re so small, and tight and I’m so big and strong. I feel like you could never run on me anymore,” he laughed. At that point, my common sense had checked out. I was following the flow and taking what was to enjoy in that glorious trainwreck. I buried my face in the thick pecs of Kevin, and reached around, grabbing his wide, strong, sinewy back, grinding my dick in abs. “Aw baby, yes, you like it,” he said, caressing the back of my head. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to go all the way. But now that I have you in my arms, I know I have to do it.” He popped two more pills and swallowed them. I braced myself. This time, I could feel the growth and see it. His temperature rose. He was radiating an unnatural heat and I could feel it from inside me. His pulsating rod was so hot against my tender insides. His whole body tensed. As the growth resumed, the muscle fibers started to show underneath his skin, each muscle getting more defined and more exaggerated. He kept on fucking me, the whole time, his dick slowly getting longer and thicker, hitting new places inside me and stretching me in ways I had never imagined. His neck got thicker than his head, and his traps rose and fattened almost reaching his ears. His shoulders thickened and were pushed apart by his growing back. The muscles were stacking on top of each other, pushing against each other. My hands and arms forced opened by his growing back and lats. His pecs were getting so huge that they started sagging ever-so-slightly under their own weight, but every flex would make them ripple with thick cords of muscle in mindblowing way. I could feel his abs fattening and the crevice between them getting deeper, almost swallowing my dick as I rubbed it against them. His arms got thicker, and he had to reposition them due to his growing biceps. The head splitted and new bulbous muscles would emerge. His triceps were insanely large and they made two-thirds of his arms almost thicker than my waist. And his forearms were now almost as thick as his biceps giving and insane silhouette. Underneath all that his legs had each reached a gargantuan size to support his frame. They were arched, forced apart by the crazy amount of muscle packed on them, his quad were massive, ripped and each micro movement he made to balance us would result in an insane display of muscle moving under his skin. His growth finally stopped, and I would later learn that kevin was now over 500 lbs of muscle. He started to lose the rhythm of his fuck, his thrust getting erratic. I knew it meant he was getting close. Over his pecs, I could see his face contorted by pleasure, eyes rolled back, and his mouth agape with drool trickling from it. I myself was in a daze, a mix of terror, lust and obedience, my body wrecked by the growing monster and the the wave of pleasure sent by my devastated prostate, my mind shattered by bliss and abuse, my dick rock hard rubbing with abs that no human being should possess. I heard an unintelligible growl and my insides were once more flooded by the burning seed of the man.this time it was an insane amount a proper cup of hot cum filling me. The pressure and warm were so intense I unloaded too, a comparatively small load on his abs. Kevin was giggling, his whole body spasming and rocking under the strength of the orgasm. I could feel each spasm inside of me through his dick and my body followed his lead shaking and shivering in response like I wasn’t in control anymore. Well, I actually wasn’t in control anymore. Kevin slowly lifted me off his dick and set me down carefully. I was unsteady on my feet, weak in the knees, trying not to fall and not to let the cum inside me escape. But I was shaking and stumbling and rapidly cooling drops of cum were slowly running on the inside of my thigh. Kevin still hold me by the shoulders, dwarfing me. It was two time and half as wide and the thickness was overwhelming. “Let’s clean up and get some rest baby.” he panted “ we have big day tomorrow, I have to go clothes shopping and we need to collect your stuff so you can move in with me.”
  17. Packmates part 5

    Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3688-packmates-werewolf-muscle-growth-part-1/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3689-packmates-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3691-packmates-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4032-packmates-part-4/ At 3 o'clock the next morning I still hadn't gotten to sleep. Snow, Bruak, Ragnar and Logan were all laying with me but they'd managed to nod off. I couldn't shake what had happened out of my head, I was in a war. Suddenly there was a knock on the door before it was opened and closed loudly. Ragnar didn't wake but Snow and I did so we went to investigate. "Help us please!" cried a croaky African voice as we got to the main hallway and found two men stumbling down it. One was bleeding all over the place and the over was dragging him. Immediately I rushed over and began to help him, using the healing magic Miranda had taught me as Snow dashed off to find her. The wound was very deep, he'd almost been cut in half and he was losing a lot of blood. I ripped off my shirt and began to wrap the wound I then instructed everyone who had gathered to do the same. I was hoping to staunch the bleeding and buy the guy some time whilst we waited for Miranda. He was breathing but very weakly and I didn't know if he would make it. "Please, you have to save him... I-I don't want-" "It'll be okay" I assured. "Out of the way Layton, I'll take it from here!" cried Miramda as she sprinted down the corridor holding some kind of crystal in here hand. I immediately backed away and allowed her to approach just as Asad appeared. "Winston! Arthur?" he called as he broke through the circle of on-lookers. The uninjured man immediately grabbed him in a hug and began to shake slightly. "It'll be okay Winston" he said softly as tears began to brim in his eyes as he saw Arthur's wounds. An hour later I was sitting in the kitchen making tea for Asad and Winston - who had finally stopped crying. I couldn't think of anything to say, from what little we got from Winston we found out that their entire werelion Pack had been killed, the Mutts had managed to blow up their car just as they were leaving the airport. The only reason Winston and Arty had managed to escape was because they'd been shoved out of the way by their Alpha. We still didn't know how Arty had been injured because Winston had been too upset to say. We sat in silence for awhile before Ragnar eventually came. He hugged us all tightly and took Asad away, leaving me with Winston. I managed to convince him to get some sleep, so I took him to the American's section and spent the night with him and two men called Chad and Chuck who had offered us their bed. There was a very somber mood the next morning, after our run we found out that Arthur had survived the night, but there had been no word from the werelions and they were presumed to be dead. We went about our business as usual, training and eating but when the evening came everyone's spirits were so low that we barely ate. Seeing how down everyone was Ragnar got us all to get changed into something comfy and return to the main hall. When we got there there were sofas and comfortable seats for everyone, blankets, food and a warm fire. "We've all been pretty shaken by the news of the loss of our brethren. I want us all to be together at this time, to comfort each other and prepare for what is to come" said Ragnar as he walked towards us. We all moved into the hall and began to fill up the space, we shared seats with each other, lay down together and began to talk. Everyone let out their anxieties and their grief, our thoughts of what might happen and what we hoped we would achieve. After and hour or so there was a knock at the door and Arthur entered the room. He was in a wheelchair and Miranda was pushing him, he didn't seem to be in any pain but his wound still hadn't completely healed. A green salve had been rubbed all over it and was now drying, it smelled pretty awful but no-one cared as we all gathered around him to greet him, Winston had immediately ran over and had kissed him before taking control of the wheelchair from Miranda. Ragnar then led the two of them over to where he was sitting and gave them space besides him "I'm glad you're okay Arty" he said softly as he put his hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the head. Arty just nodded, he hadn't said a word since the accident but Miranda had said it was just due to the shock of almost being cut in half. That night I don't know if I ever saw Asad. After losing his Pack he had become reclusive and kept to himself, Winston and Arty handled the news better because they had each other but we still didn't know what we were going to do with the last three werelions in existence... That night as I lie awake, surrounded by my slumbering pack I decided to do something useful with my sleeplessness. I used my short ranged teleport spell to hop between the sleeping wolves towards the exit and then through the door. I didn't hear anyone stir so I assumed I'd gotten away unnoticed. I went to the library - which had thankfully remained at a normal size - so that I could study. I found a book about werewolf anatomy and began to read, perched in the cushioned window alcove with a warm fur blanket wrapped around myself. I was studying werewolves as I wanted to know exactly what I was becoming. As I neared the end of the book I heard footsteps approaching. My childish instincts kicked in and I turned off my reading light and pulled the curtains over the window before teleporting to the small space behind one of the armchairs. I didn't feel scared, in fact I felt excited as I caught a glimpse of feet. I hadn't been noticed yet and the urge to leap out at the visitor was becoming stronger. They approached a bookshelf near me and scanned one of the rows before plucking a book out and promptly leaving. I knew it had come from the advanced magic section so I was curious as to who else had decided to stay up for a late night study session. I followed them silently along the corridors, using what I'd learned from living with Ragnar to sneak around. They turned into one of the living rooms in the American wing. Knowing that it'd be empty I decided to go into the room next to it as I could hear voices as they entered. Pressing my ear against the wall and attempting to use some of my werewolf characteristics that I had obtained from my first bite I listened in to their conversation. "He doesn't know yet, only the circle do. The ritual should go off without a hitch but he might not like the results and if he does then we're going to have to deal with an angry Demi-God whenever something bad happens" said one of the voices. I quickly processed what they were talking about and realised that it was me. "Well I'd prefer it if Hircine just took over. Layton's just weak" spat one of them. "Hmmph of all the people Ragnar has to choose from it makes you wonder why he chose him, a light breeze'd probably push him over and we're meant to bend over and submit to him in the middle of a war? We need strong leaders not some stuck up Oxford brat who probably can't even lift a sword." muttered another. "Well he's still human... If he were to accidentally fall... No maybe that's going too far" said a more familiar voice. I didn't listen to anymore, I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes and I didn't want to risk getting caught so I put the glass down and crept into the hallway. I cast a muffling spell and then ran along it to the grove. I knew it wouldn't be cold as it had been enchanted to stay humid in order for the exotic plants within to survive. I walked over to the padded arbor and curled up in it. I'd never been able to handle people talking about me behind my back, it made me so angry. I could feel tears streaming down my face, hot from my burning rage. It was then I realised that I was sweating too, my body getting incredibly hot all of a sudden. Then alI I could feel was a searing pain all over my body. I saw a figure enter the grove but before I could cry out I blacked out from the pain. Buck In the morning I was feeling unexpectedly refreshed. The feeling of sleeping amongst everyone had made me feel at home. However when Ragnar's pile of men began to stir there was a sudden tension "Where's Layton?" called Ragnar as we all looked around. When there was no response we all jumped into action to find him. I followed Logan as I knew he'd be one of the first to find Layton. He crowded around a large stone door with Fenrir and Ragnar who then opened it. We all stepped inside and I was amazed to see a garden full of beautiful fauna and standing in one of the white arbors was a shimmering blue woman and a slumbering man. When the woman saw us enter she smiled and nodded at Ragnar before disappearing in a swirl of leaves. Ragnar and the rest of us then immediately paced over to the man. I didn't recognise him at first He was at least seven foot and about as broad as the arbor he lay in, a day old beard had grown around his chiseled jaw and his jogging bottoms had torn and fallen off him. "Layton?" questioned Ragnar as the figure opened his eyes "what happened?" "I-I don't know," he mumbled as he curled up against the arbor and seemed to realise that he was much bigger than before "what happened to me?" "I don't know right now, c'mon lets get you inside" Ragnar said soothingly as he helped Layton to stand. His trousers barely held on to his waist and everyone could see that he had clearly grown in all aspects. However it was hard to find his godly muscles attractive as he looked incredibly pale and sickly. Ragnar ordered everyone back inside and then Logan took all of us on the morning run. Though we took a shorter route as everyone wanted to get back as quickly as possible to make sure Layton was okay. Logan When we returned the Grove was locked and Bruak was guarding the steps to Ragnar's room. When I approached he stepped in front of the stairs, blocking them out completely with his enormous green bulk. "Sorry, no interruptions. Ragnar's orders" "Is he okay?" I asked, still moving towards him. Bruak put his hand on my shoulder, his thick digits were about the site of a baby's arm. "He's going to be alright, now run along before I make you" he teased as he grinned down at me from behind his enormous muscular gut and bed-sized pecs. Growling I walked off, not wanting to seem intimidated, for if I wanted to get past him badly enough I knew he wouldn't stop me. Though it'd certainly be hard. "See you tonight then I suppose, I hope Snow share's his food" I taunted, grinning back at him. "Heh, I've hope you've tasted Orc before. Wouldn't want to break you little guy" he replied. "I'll get him back for that later" I thought to myself as I walked back towards the main hall where Breakfast was being served. "Yo Fen" I cried as I swaggered towards him and the other Alpha's (who were overseeing the hall). I stood next to him but he still towered above me. "You know what's going on with Layton?" I questioned. "Keep your voice down dumbass, you'll find out later. Now sit down and eat" he growled. I went to take some food off of his plate but he grabbed my hand "don't even think about it" I went and sat with the British Pack members, I hadn't really met any of them but I was trying to work my way around the Pack and they knew Layton best so I could find out about him too. That night I walked back up to Bruak's watch post, this time he smiled and let me past. He slapped me on my ass as I passed, making me grin and get slightly aroused. When I got to Layton's room I was sporting a full on boner, luckily no-one inside paid any attention. "Logan, come here" ordered Ragnar from his seat next to Layton. I darted over and looked down at the bed, some colour had returned to Layton but it was hard to tell as there were hundreds of intricate silver tattoos all over him. "He's finally ready" said Ragnar as he stroked Layton's head. I couldn't hold back my smile, I didn't care about Layton becoming a Demi-God, he was becoming a werewolf and that's all I cared about. "When will we perform the ceremony?" I questioned, knowing it'd have to be soon. "At dawn, it should take all day" replied Ragnar. "Go and tell everyone to prepare. Their new Alpha is coming" Layton I woke up feeling heavy, I could barely lift my head and my body was numb almost as if it wasn't mine. "Layton?" I strained my head to the side and saw Ragnar looking down at me, smiling broadly. I attempted to move to hug him and found that I suddenly flung myself at him. Catching him off guard "W-what happened to me?" I asked, holding him tightly and resting against him. "It's okay, you just passed out. Your body started to adapt too, we think you might've gone through 'blood fever'. It's when a werewolf with only wolf blood experiences extreme pain via emotion or physical injury and so it's body adapts to defend against it" explained Ragnar. I understood what he had said and knew what he was about to ask "I wasn't hurt" I stated as he began to hug me back. "What, or who got you so riled up then?" he asked, Ragnar his voice dripping with concern so much that I almost didn't notice the anger. "Just... The usual crap. It doesn't -" "Cub, blood fever is dangerous. You need to tell me everything" replied Ragnar. I pulled away from him and nodded, before letting him know what had happened. "Well after the ritual you can deal with them how you please. Just know that I chose you because of your heart, your kindness. I don't care about anything else." he replied, kissing me and crawling into bed with me. "You're going to become a werewolf at Dawn..." I smiled nervously "Will I be okay?" "Well look at yourself, you'll be fine" I looked down and saw my godly body, it was covered in tattoos and patterns made out of some kind of salve. I recognised them from the book I had read last night. I felt more at ease and began to smile, I was finally going to be a true part of the Pack. The ceremony took place outside in the larger garden. I was lying on some kind of stone altar and everyone was kneeling around it, they all had similar tattoos on their chests (they were all naked) but no where near as many as me. Ragnar stood above me in his wolf form. "Brothers and Sisters of the Pack please join me in the blood pact for the coronation of our new Alpha and the conduit for Lord Hircine. Everyone began to speak some kind of pledge but it was in a different tongue that I couldn't recognise. Suddenly their tattoos began to glow and slowly so did mine. "Layton, do you accept our gift?" asked Ragnar. "I do" I replied as o gazed into his eyes. "Do you accept the responsibilities of being an Alpha?" "I do" "Will you join your spirit with Hircine?" "I will" I replied, not fully aware of what I was getting into. "Then as Alpha, I shall impart to you our gift" replied Ragnar as he leant down and kissed me on the forehead before taking a huge bite out of my chest, the tattoos that used to cover it remained however like a spectral skeleton. I cried out in pain but I didn't black out as Ragnar began to lick the wound. Miranda then stepped up and placed a large silver crystal on my chest. "Hircine, we offer you this man to use for your survival. As Alpha he shall be in charge and you will aid him in anyway you can" she called out as the sun crept over the altar. The moon was still high in the sky and I could feel it beacon to me. After a few minutes the stone began to grow and my body began to reform, the wound completely closing up and leaving a crescent scar. An hour later the stone stopped glowing and my body began to tingle as small dark silver hairs began to sprout all over my rapidly expanding body. When the sensation finally stopped Ragnar helped me off the altar and I looked down at the Pack, realising slowly that Ragnar and I were at least thirty feet tall. "All rise for your new Alpha" called out Ragnar. Our Pack immediately obeyed, I smiled at them all and heard Ragnar whisper "Roar" I felt something stir inside me and it forced upwards, I let out an ear splitting roar and eighty percent of our Pack immediately lay down and bowed. "Now the rest of you will fight him" said Ragnar grinning. He then turned to me and kissed me passionately before saying "You'll have to shrink back down though" I grinned at him and we slowly shrunk back down to a more suitable height for brawling. "Beat Layton and you'll become Alpha instead. Though if you lose he'll put you in your place" said Ragnar as he sat down on the stone altar. He then started pointing at the Pack members who were still standing one by one and ordering us to fight. I barely had to try to beat them until I was pitted against an Alpha. Angus and Alpha were the hardest to beat but they only required about half my actual strength. Logan on the other hand was a lot stronger than I thought. For such a small guy he certainly was strong, I almost thought I was going to lose to him as his epic biceps flared up around me as he attempted to tackle me. I held my ground however and soon I had him pinned. Snow and Bruak were just as hard, though Bruak's extra weight made him slightly harder. Though it made him so much more comfortable when I had him pinned to the floor. After two hours my only opponent was now Ragnar. He grinned at me and stood up "Now this fight is optional, it just determines who's dominant in our relationship" he explained. "Think you can beat me then?" I taunted, moving closer to him. "Oh I'm sure of it" he replied, stepping even closer and touching my arm. "Go for it" We began to wrestle and scrap with each other. He was stronger than I'd ever imagined, I was pushed to the limit trying to beat him. Though he was also baring his teeth and snarling a lot and soon it was getting to me. His overwhelming dominance, his masculine scent and powerful body was beginning to make me feel submissive. "I knew it Hircine, I've surpassed you" he whispered, as I felt myself give up. "Heh, now I get to really let loose on you, cub" Ragnar flirted as he bared down on me. The rest of the Pack were all submitting to Ragnar along with me. We both began to grow back to our maximum size, our sweaty bulging muscles rubbing against each other as I felt his now building-sized cock brush against my eager hole. As he entered me my senses heightened and I cried out in intense pleasure as he began to fuck me. Every thrust making the ground shake, his feet pushing themselves into the dirt. The other Pack members were all drunk with lust watching their godly Alpha's mate. After what seemed like I year I felt Ragnar release a lake of cum into me, it's warmth filling me up. I was shooting all over his chest and as he stood back up he licked it off his hand and watched as I used his cum to expand even more until I blocked out the sun from the entire Pack. "Now Layton, you get to fuck everybody else. Go wild" I now realised why the ritual would take all day. As the sun set I strutted over to Bruak. He immediately began to lick Snow's cum off my bulging pecs so I held his head against them and began grinding on his stomach. "Hope you're ready Bru, I could still go for another hour or two." I grunted as he tweaked my engorged nipple. The I slowly lifted him up until he hovered above my eight foot cock. As I impaled him he let out a war cry and began to clench my cock with his right ass, pumping it and getting me even more horned up. My cock swelled within him as he continued to lick my chest and armpits, burying his face in my hairy cleavage. When I was finally finished he was still cumming gallons. The rest of the Pack were either sleeping, passed out or growing from my cum. "Impressive cub, didn't know you were such a dom" called Ragnar as we embraced. "Might just let you have a go with me" he teased before grabbing my ass.
  18. An Adverse Reaction (Part 2)

    Hello all, Part 2 of Adverse Reaction. I hope you enjoy, will need ideas for my next story, so please feel free to message me with suggestions. For the next few days, Nick avoided me wherever he could. I didn’t see him for several days initially following the unusual events that took place in the gym shower. I had continued to grow all the way back from the gym at a much slower rate; it seemed over the next few days that I also continued to grow increasingly more powerful in the gym. My lifts were going up and up and so was every part of me. I couldn’t believe how strong I was getting, it was like a dream come true. However, despite clearly trying to avoid each other it was inevitable that we would bump into each other in such a small flat. That day came almost 8 days after the shower incident. I was struggling to squeeze myself into my old clothes. My slender jeans and slim fit tops were now discarded in the back of my wardrobe as they split when I put them on. Either that or they fought with pecs for space or dug into my arms and shoulders with incredible discomfort. Now I had to settle for baggy jeans or baggy shorts and my old hoodies or sports jerseys. Unfortunately I owned very few, and all my shirts now, began to stink of man after about 4 hours of wear. Apparently whatever my body was now kicking out, it smelled strong and powerful, just like the rest of me. I waited for a day when Nick wasn’t in. It was a plan that required patience, but I found that my new persona was hungry for a change in the dynamic at home. I grinned as my phone chirped. I looked down and opened up the grindr profile, I had paid extra to have the full app and get the notifications, because it was all part of the major plan. My grin was because, some new pics of me had sent my sexual appeal into the stratosphere and I was enjoying my new found appeal by fucking tight ass like a man in a desert, drinking water, for the first time in months. One new revelation out of all of this, was an increasingly dominant and slight sadistic streak in the bedroom, which had proceed to have grown only stronger in keeping with my outward appearance. I loved to watch down over my newly minted pectorals to see them suck me off, their eyes fixed on mine. The power of it. I knew I was getting hooked on it as a sensation. However, I also knew my plan involved me having to put that to one side, to achieve what I wanted. Knowing what I liked as a dominant in the bedroom, I began to talking to fellow dominant muscle guys. Guys who could gift me the very thing I craved. More power. Posing as a fit, athletic submissive, I found it tough to find the right dominant. Until today. I knew my housemate was out. The timing was perfect. This guy was just right. Arrogant and rude. Older by 15 years. Married with kids. Bulging with muscle and hung to fuck. I couldn’t steal from a guy like me, I had to take it from someone with ego, someone who looked down on me. Someone who only saw me as an inferior male specimen. The phone chirped again. As was the plan, he was coming right over from the gym. I had to be ready for him, on my knees, wearing a sports vest and a jockstrap. I looked over at the bedside table. There waiting for him, fresh from the gym, was an ice-cold, orange coloured protein shake. As I heard the handle of the front door turn, I was on my knees, I picked up the protein shake and held it out in front of me. If this worked, well… This was going to be amazing. He entered. He said nothing, but snatched the shake and kicked me backwards onto the floor from my kneeling position. I dulled the malevolent look in my eyes and watched as he drank the post-workout shake as I had offered to have ready for his arrival. If it tasted of anything, he did not express it. I watched his thick, powerful arms hold the shaker aloft. Sweat streaked his huge physique, he wore only a black string vest and some loose red gym shorts. He kicked off his shoes and stepped towards me. I could smell his fresh, fierce gym scent. My face in line with his crotch, I could smell his uncut cock. Suddenly it kicked in the light polyester shorts. It surged towards me, huge. Bigger than Sam. He growled as I massaged his legs, the organ pulsing to life, growing hard and thick. Moments later, he had lost control, grabbed me by the vest and the jock, shouldered his way into the bedroom and dumped me on the bed. Only, this was Nick’s room. I didn’t have time to correct things, as this guy was on me. Using me for his own pleasure. His cock pulsed down the length of my back, he grabbed me by the neck and I felt the searing pain of his cock enter me. It was brutally painful and I grunted, but he stifled it with one big sweaty palm over my face. He rammed my face into the bed, forcing my ass up. My hands gripped the edge of the mattress and I was forced to breath in my housemates acrid stink, which would have previously made my own cock harden. But I was becoming a different creature now. I wanted to fight back and push this asshole off me. But I wanted to grow. I had to be right, it had to be this luminous orange shit Sam had been necking everyday. The guy behind me, grunted and laughed at my apparent pain. His organ really was monsterous and he was damn strong. I could hear the wooden bedframe, creak, that unmistakeable sound of wood splitting as he ploughed me. Nick’s furniture moved across the floor between each, titanic thrust. Then it happened, I felt his cock thicken, and then thicken again, straining my hole. I felt him began to fire round after round into me. The change, was immediate. I felt it inside me. Like a spark to a freestanding pool of diesel. I ignited. My head rose up. “Oh fuck yes… FUCK…. YES….” Was about all I could utter as it ripped through me. Energy, masculine energy suffused my limbs. I felt my ass kick back, my thighs bulge with new mass. Fuck, I felt strong. My back cracked and I lengthened up the bed. I grinned as it hit my shoulders. I was no longer able to hold onto the roleplay fantasy as I felt my shoulders undulate and widen, lats surging in power. “Yes… I’m g-growing… This is fucking amazing…” I felt the softening cock slip out from me. I rolled over and saw the expression in his face. It was a face I had not seen before, a mixture of revulsion and desire. He loathed watching me grow but desired it for himself. He was torn, he felt drained, he wanted to leave, but he needed to know how too. I extended my longer legs over the bed, sprung forward with my strengthening arms and stood in front of him. I grinned at him only now slightly less tall than him, but in a split second, the margin vanished. I growled again. My pecs surged and thread of my vest creaked and split at the shoulder. I inhaled deeply and the split widened into a tear, revealing the bulging mass beneath the fabric. Another tear, this time from below. He looked down and went pale. His prior former glory, soft and hanging limp, looked smaller than he had every seen it. It’s mass, very obviously being siphoned into its opposite number as my small jock was being shredded by the growing mound of my package. I laughed as it tore open the jock at my right hip and my newly grown organ fell forwards, thick, large and pointing menacingly at him before it pulsed larger again. My nuts beneath, not left out from the transformation. I brought my arms up and flexed, they bulged with power. My features refining, my masculinity surging as he, went the other way. His previous bulging ripped physique, was still big, but much softer. He was shorter, looked less masculine but I mostly seemed to have drained him of his cock, which looked woefully average now. He looked between my taught biceps and his own softer upper arms as I flexed, I was captivated my their shape and bulge, a big thick vein now across the surface of my left bicep. I looked back at him. “Now fuck off, or I’ll take more…” His trainers made a plastic squeal as he made for the door, stumbling twice over his now, too large shoes. I grinned, turned to Nick’s mirror and flexed. This was amazing. It would be several more days before I could take this new found ability and turn it back against Nick. Had I felt any pang of morality about going through with it, it seemed to evapourate with my last growth. I considered, I was becoming no better than Nick or the asshole who just saw me as a convenient hole, but somehow, I didn’t seem to mind. ********* It was on the day when I had no more clean sports jerseys to wear that I squeezed my newly bolstered frame into the biggest tee I had. Instead of looking ridiculous, I looked incredible. I was never going to hide myself again I snickered, watching myself in the bathroom mirror, my biceps straining the sleeves, chunky veins emerging from beneath the cuffs and my new enhanced pectoral shelf straining the shirt. Just looking at myself made the sleeping organ in my jeans pulse. As I was about to flex in the t-shirt, I heard the door to the bathroom swing open and Nick stepped in. He was dressed only in a towel. “I need a shower” “Yeah, I’m nearly done Nick, you can wait 2 minutes” My blood burned as it pumped through me. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had stood up to Nick, this was incredible. He looked at me malevolently. As I finished tusseling my hair with wax in the mirror, I gazed admiringly as my biceps swelled at bulged as my hands worked on my coarse, thicker hair. I glanced across in the mirror, Nick was watching my arms too as our eyes never met. “Right, all yours bro…” I grunted and exited the shower, smiling at the unmistakable hardening of Nick’s thick organ against his towel. He would never before have gotten aroused by me, but I couldn’t be sure if it was his protein that caused it, or whether Nick had always been secretly attracted to muscular jocks. As I walked out of the bathroom, it dawned of me that Nick would be in there for some time. His room would be unguarded. Checking over my shoulder, I crept into his room. The scent of his room more familiar now that my own bedroom was developing its own masculine scent. A quick glance across the counters and floors, did reveal that Nick had been entertaining Jenna recently. He left the very thing that I wanted, just lying there. I grinned and got to work. I traced the edge of my water bottle with a finger through the car ride, its precious cargo the only thing I could think about. Nick’s malicious gaze continued to drift from the traffic ahead onto my swollen arms, the size and obvious power, stretching the sleeves of my previously baggy t-shirt, whereas his underarmour hid what he had clearly lost very well. He had managed however, to quite easily convince himself, he was no less of a man than he was the previous week. As we arrived at the gym, as we exited the car I took my first gulp of my water bottle, the lemon juice not really disguising the digusting taste of his ejaculate. I loved the feeling of pure energy as it burned down my throat before setting a raging fire within my gut. More suddenly than I expected I began to feel myself grow as we crossed the car park, I could feel the arms of my t-shirt dig into hardening biceps, my burgeoning arm reached down to readjust my package which was becoming rather uncomfortable in my new jock, I bought to replace the previous one. “Stop playing with yourself…” Nick scolded his voice breaking as he did so. I loved the feeling, watching him wilt as I grew stronger and stronger. It was hard to avoid the temptation to drink all of the contents of my shake, but I resisted. I walked over to an empty weight bench, the agreed exercise to be shoulder press. After a quick warm up, I grabbed his usual working weight and hefted it over to him. He looked a little anxiously at the large imposing dumbbells before turning his face into a snarl. He hardened the look as he got his arms into the perfect start position with a little help. I stood back and took another big swig of the potent protein shake. On his second rep and his arms visibly twinged as his muscle thinned, his face strained as his arms struggled. “Bro…” he struggled growing red in the face As his face glowed so the change rocketed through me, I could feel my chest swell outwards. My tee was now edging towards dangerously snug. The end of my shorts were now rubbing the top of my knee and not the top of my calf as the flourishing muscle and elongating limbs, pulled them vertically. I positioned myself behind him, and applied a very firm pressure from beneath his elbows to help with the weight, but he still struggled, the contours of his elbows feeling flatter and softer. His weakening arms inched upwards a little more before stopping, as his muscle ebbed, it felt like I was draining it right out of him. Nick’s arms collapsed and the heavy dumbells came clattering to the floor, he leaned forwards onto his knees totally spent. Before we switched seats I took another big swig of the shake. My weight was less than Nick’s but much more than I would normally throw around. I hefted the weight into position, getting one up with the help of a quad, as the undeniable cracking of the hem of my shorts resounded in the air of the gym. I pressed the weight, from my stance I could feel the bulge in my underwear swell, the feeling of wellness and masculine power bolt through me as I pressed the weight, after the second rep, it felt light. It felt like the worlds best pump. But I knew better, I was growing still. I racked the weight, and grinning, watched Nick’s face fall as I grabbed more weight. I restarted shoulder pressing the heavier dumbells, now matching Nick’s weight, it was tough at first but it got slowly easier as I felt my growth continue but at a slower pace. The delts fought back hard against the taught fabric, the power of the muscle winning out on the fifth rep, as two seams cracked. The protuberant muscle tearing the fabric apart. I grinned at Nick who looked white with shock. The sixth rep, forced the muscle to bulge larger again, the stronger, harder, steely muscle tearing more of the seam like a knife through butter. I felt the pressure around that shoulder relax and I grunted a lewd moan, feeling the sinew burst from its cloth prison. “Oh fuck yeah… growing…” I grunted. I turned to the mirror, bringing both my arms up displaying their new expanded form. As I gently flexed, more cracking was audible. I drank in my new form, whilst openly taking long stares at Nick, he seemed weaker by the second where as I was empowered. My skin seemed to glow with vitality, my features more masculine and edgy and my eyes sparkled. I couldn’t remember, ever feeling this good. I think, looking back on it now, objectively, this would probably have been enough to address the power balance in the flat, to bring things back to an even keel, but something inside me had grown stronger too. I felt that “evens” wasn’t enough, I didn’t even wrestle with the desire, I simply gave into it, to the temptation to take more, to feel the power course through me again. I chugged some more protein shake and suggested some lateral raises. Nick for the first time, seemed almost defeated but agreed. I watched as we moved over to the smaller free weights. I watched Nick gingerly pick up the 8kg. “Shoulder injury…” he coughed, by way of an excuse for not using his normal weight. I watched as he began the exercise, his weakened musculature, struggling with the small weight. His arms shook and sweat seemed to pour out of him. I grabbed heavier weights and began exercising next to him. My eyes firmly locked onto the powerful body I barely recognised in the mirror, Nick looked on, watching striations burst out of my skin into prominence. Exhausted he let the weights hang by his side as I grabbed heavier ones. By now, I could feel others in the gym watch as my shoulders swelled and veins pulsed over the surface. I wracked the dumbells and brought my arms up into a flex. The swollen arms and shoulders, openly tearing the arms of my vest with audible cracks. “YEAH!” I roared, totally absorbed in this power, not caring how the transformation was affecting not just my body, my whole personality. On reflection, how many of us could be in this situation and not take it all, how many of us would turn down the opportunity to be elevated above others. Maybe, the old me could have turned back on it, but the testosterone tearing through my body, urged me on, pressing me to turn the knife in Nicks wound. At least, I tell myself it was that. Before I could pose again, Nick was gone. I glanced over to see him slip back into the changing rooms. I grinned, casually following him, sauntering through the gym, as other guys eyed my new form, probably the first time they’ve ever noticed me over my flatmate. In the changing rooms, Nick stripped and hurried into the shower. I could barely stop myself from grinning as my ruined workout shirt hung off my surging frame. I gently peeled the remains off, letting it drop to the floor as my chest caught my eye. Not only was it distended with muscle, but a fine coat of hair was now generously coating it, only adding to overstate the power and evolutional masculinity behind such a display. My thickened legs were swelling as I padded from foot to looking in the mirror, eagerly flexing my now bulgy and rounded biceps, the forearms crammed with veins and distended with a sickeningly thick spread. I chugged down the last of the precious shake. My eager guzzling causing the odd drip to land haphardly on my swollen pectoral shelf. Even as my left hand casually quested for it, I felt it absorb into my skin. It was like my body was adapting to Nick as a source of food. With my legs rolling over each other, I made for the shower. I knew Nick would want to once again try and put me in my place, with the only advantage he still had. I deliberately entered the shower, facing an opposite shower head to Nick. I felt the familiar surge within me, the change was coming, and this would be a big one. I knew Nick had his back to the shower head, as he always did, any excuse to show off his almighty package to anyone who would glance at it. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, his once proud muscle, softened, his hard look now distinctly puffier and flatter. His once thick neck, now looking thinner and less impressive. His typically rounded biceps looking more fusiform and slender. Yet, I was still aware his package had remained large. In his rush to get into the shower, he hadn’t appeared to notice the other changes to his body. “You think that I wouldn’t notice Sam?” He said suddenly, as I felt my back begin to furtively thicken. “Notice what bro…?” I asked innocently, turning halfway to face him. “You stealing my protein powder… It’s really good stuff bro, but I’ve hidden it now. I’m not sharing anymore with you, so enjoy the growth, because believe me, when I get back on it, I’m gonna make your life pure hell” He grinned at me his features malevolent. His hand reaching down and palming his thick, long piece of meat, grabbing the base, he gave it two quick tugs. If he registered that it didn’t seem as big, or as long as usual, his face didn’t reflect that. “However big you get, you’ll never be bigger than me where it really counts” He said laughing. But his laughter died away when I turned to face him. He drank in the image, watching, as my muscles seemed to bulge bigger. His mouth moved wordlessly as if trying to speak but unable. I felt the dragon roar up within me as power streamed through my body. I felt my legs lengthen, taking my growing profile in higher, I couldn’t believe how strong, how powerful I felt. “Alright fine…” I said finally, breaking the silence “But… I think you’ll find Nick… that I’m the one bigger where it counts and if I’m bigger, you have to suck it…” I continued Nick, his eyes darting between my chest, abs and, what was now a bigger than average flaccid cock. “Heh, I’m still bigger bro, you got yourself a deal. And if I’m bigger I guess that means you have to suck mine!” he grinned. “well… alright then…” I said feeling my growth slacken off again He began massaging his cock, it would have been impressive by anyone’s standards, of course, anyone that hadn’t seen Nick before this week. Now as I played with my own thicker, longer tool, it felt great as it engorged and grew hard as steel, the whole throbbing pole feel amazing in my hand, better than ever before. What I presume Nick used to feel. My bigger, swollen balls, pulsed with energy, my skin on fire. To my surprise, Nicks cock thickened obscenely, hanging lower and lower as he caressed it with a fist, soon it grew harder and began rising up, pointing straight at me. My sword rising to meet the opponent, like the calm before a joust or fencing tournament. He stepped forward, my eyes angled downward to meet his, I was growing taller. Again if he registered this, he chose to ignore it. Instead, he grabbed my big thickening pole and pulled me in closer toward him. But I grinned as I felt his purple, engorged cock head jab into my abdomen. My own cock, falling just a few millimetres short to do the same to him. I watched Nick return the smug, arrogant look plaster all over his face again. “Heh, you know, I’m gonna enjoy this…” he smiled, placing a hand on my thickened and bulging shoulder. I tried to look dismayed as I sank to my knees, the flexion making my quads bulge and distend. I’m not certain if Nick noticed much of what was happening, but glint in his eye suggested that somehow he was oblivious. I gazed upward, with as much of an innocent intent as I could muster, made all the easier as he gently slapped his cock against my mouth. I didn’t even have to time react as he bucked his now seemingly slender hips forward and penetrated my mouth with his thick organ. I concentrated on supressing my gap reflex and kneading the rigid shaft with the breadth of my tongue as he firmly handled the sides of my head for his own pleasure. As he thrust in, I could feel the last of the effects of the tainted protein shake start to slacken, but things were already accelerating toward my eventual victory as I watched Nick sneer, his legs buckle and toes curl. His insistent and powerful thrusting increased in intensity but weakened in power. I could take his cock more manageably in my mouth; I knew my grip on his legs strengthened as those very legs diminished. Then I felt it, before he knew about it, before even the tidal wave of his cum hit me. I felt the spark of power deep within me, grow hot and brighter with every passing second. I focussed on feeding that sensation and sucked hard on his cock and it felt like the dam burst within him as his cock pulsed and rope after rope of his thick white ejaculate launched into my mouth. I felt like I had the energy to run a marathon or move boulders, as I continued to suck hard on his organ. Within seconds, my thickened musculature began to grow again as I took everything Nick had to offer. I glanced up at Nick, his head back, totally gripped in pleasure, his eyes half closed. I watched as I saw his chest weaken, his abs lose definition, and his thighs lose the impressive thickness. I knew his cock was shrinking too as my mouth now held his whole length easily. I also knew exactly where it was going. On my knees, my now impressive slab of meat between my legs was hanging over a bigger pair of bull balls and grazing the wet tile beneath my legs, with every passing second, I felt it reel out and rest on the tile like a python. I couldn’t physically wait to see the new me, but I could feel myself growing larger and stronger by the second. The feeling was indescribable, save for the undeniable and unassailable power that coursed through every inch of my body. As pleasure washed over him, he placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, as he looked down, curious about the sheer size and breadth of the rugged, rock hard shelf he had gripped on to. As our eyes met, I licked the head of his cock clean and pulled the much shorter, dare I even say small, cock from my mouth and grinned up from the floor at him. He said nothing, as his eyes darted around my newly enhanced body. In a split second, his cock bucked and he came again, only managing two single ropes this time as it shot out and hit my chest. He watched as it absorbed into my skin and my pecs swelled even more freakishly than before. My shoulders widened and a involuntarily growl escaped my throat as I grew again. He fearfully stepped back, that’s when he noticed his transformation, in the opposite direction. “Whu- you… you took it?” “You gave it…” “No… I would never give it…” His voice sounding hollow and almost childlike “How…?” he ventured “I think it’s your protein, it’s nothing I’ve done” I said flatly I rose to my feet. I had grown so large, I put my final height at maybe 6’4, maybe more, my muscle, huge, thick, maybe 250/260lbs easily, eager and desperate to be used. I looked down at him, gone were the protuberances of his muscle, the towering, masculine height. His cock limp and shrunken. Despite this, his wolfish good looks remained, and the innocence in his face made his eyes sparkle even more. There was little more to say. He took one last look at what used to be his before turning and running. By the time I had gotten back to the flat that night, he was already gone. His stuff was mostly packed, he’d left most of his clothes, since they no longer fit him but he’d packed the important stuff. He left the weights and the bench. But I suspected that now they would be too light for me. I walked into the kitchen, not unhappy with my current situation. I wore only a pair of sweat pants, my big, muscled physique clearly on display, my obscene bulge displayed through the thick cotton fabric. I smiled as realised Nick left all his food, kitchen supplies and his vast array of supplements. But, on closer inspection, there was a gap above the refrigerator, my new vantage could show me that there was a footprint where something used to be. Nick had taken the experimental protein shake with him.
  19. An Adverse Reaction (Part 1)

    Hey guys, my first story on the forum, hope you enjoy, will post up a part 2 shortly. “Sam… SAM, GET IN HERE!” I hadn’t realised that I been instinctively cowering when his voice boomed across our flat. My friends first pointed it out when my hulking roommate invited himself out for drinks with us. It did come as a bit of a surprise to me when they told me this, mainly because Nick had never actually hit me or even threatened to, it’s just that I felt, like somehow, Nick could just bend my will. One of my closest friends at the time said I shouldn’t cower, like a puppy, but stand up to him. I could hear the strain in Nick’s voice though and I hurried into his bedroom. The sight and smell assaulting my senses as I entered; the smell of man went right up my nose in the first inhalation. It was sweat, stale sex, rich testosterone and damp, a kind of damp that you can only find in a student rugby players bedroom. It made my cock kick in its loose, thin, cotton sweats. Then of course, there was Nick, dressed only in a pair of boxers, with his weight bench sat upright, holding one of his 45kilo dumbells in both hands and grinning devilishy at me. “Dude, shoulder press… hand me the other 45!” his dark brows and long but spiked hair giving him a wolfish look. Dodging an empty takeaway carton, a discarded jock, a heap of college notes and at least one used condom, I picked my way to the dumbbell. The smell intensified as I got nearer to him. “Come on man, gotta get this done before Jen gets here” he grunted. I bent down, carefully raising the heavy dead weight. I hefted it over to Nick’s waiting hand as he got into position. I licked my lips as his biceps bulged as he flexed his arm into position. Both his thick pecs flattened out and his delts swelled freakishly, choked with veins from a pump. “Stand back” he ordered. I would like to say I watched, to say that I spotted him, but Nick was a tornado of male energy. A guttural roar emanating from his chest as he flexed the weight soaring toward the ceiling, his form disturbingly accurate. As his arms reached the maximum height, the clink of the dumbbells and the exposure of his forestry of pit hair, made my organ start to pulse in my shorts. As he went for more reps, so the smell escaping from his pits intensified over and over. The room filled with his scent. Looking back, I think that is one of the things that made me capitulate to Nicks demands as my flatmate. As the grunting continued, his shoulders and arms steadily bulging bigger from the pump, I quietly left the room wordlessly. I crept back to my smaller bedroom, put my hand gently on the top of my strictly average, rigid member, and felt it fire off into my pants. My legs weakening, I sank to the floor. My own varsity swimmers physique, feeling childlike compared to Nick’s hulking body. Soon, Nick’s girlfriend would be here, and I would be listening to them go at it for a few hours. I realised that I should probably try and get some sleep before it all kicks off. After cleaning up my own mess I walked down to the kitchen for a pre-bed snack, as I did, I thought about how Nick and I started off fairly evenly matched, how we were actually good mates who moved into this small, penthouse flat, off campus together. The weight set, the benches, bars, all bought with combined part time job salaries of both me and Nick. Now I barely get to use it. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed his array of proteins adorning the top of the fridge. Is that all it took to make him bigger than me? Irritable, I escaped back to my room, snack in hand. I woke with a start. The all too familiar, rhythmical banging of Nick’s headboard against his wall had woken me. I decided against languishing in bed, getting a semi from the image of Nick’s powerful body fucking Jenna, his fitness-model cover girl. I skulked off to the kitchen and started making pancakes. Down the corridor of the tiny flat, I could hear Nick step up his rhythm and the grunting got louder. “He’s close…” I thought, before immediately regretting it, as I felt my cock thicken. I poured the milk into the blender and turned it on, which nicely drowned out the noise of Nick’s big finish. As I waited for the mixture to thicken, I again glanced up at the top of the refrigerator. Nick was reasonably busy, so I reached up and pulled down the white looking container. I had listened to Nick extol the virtues to protein, and pre-workout and whatever happened to be flavour of the month at the time. But this… this I didn’t know about. Which was out of character for Nick. I looked over the label, it was plain white with black text. Plenty of scientific writing, this was clearly not something picked up off the supermarket shelves. I couldn’t really argue with the results though. Nick had been getting bigger and bigger, much stronger too, all in the last few weeks his progress seemed to have jumped. But he wasn’t just getting bigger, he was getting leaner too. Most of all, Nick was getting bullish, ordering me around, demanding stuff, doing whatever he liked with little consideration, his new strengthened frame easily backing up his command of me. As that last thought lingered in my head I decided I should try some of the shake. Quickly, not wanting to get caught by Nick, I spooned two tablespoons of powder into a protein shaker and quickly poured water in on top. As I was shaking it, excited to see if I could catch up to Nick, I realised the sound of the blender had been masking the sound from Nick’s room. I reached and clicked the blender off and the swirling pancake batter came to a stop. I could hear the sound of my own breathing, and feel the beating of my heart inside my chest. But nothing else, Nick was clearly finished with his girlfriend. I had to get the stolen protein shake back onto the shelf before Nick came into the kitchen. I hefted the white tub into my hands and raised it above my head. “Dude… you made me a post-fuck shake!” I, almost froze at the sound of Nick’s voice, but managed to get the tub back on top of the fridge. My heart pounding at the thought of being discovered, sinking to the level of deception to try and catch up with Nick’s recent gains. As I turned to face Nick a further reality dawned. Stood there, semi hard, straining his boxers, a wet spot visible, his thick muscular topless torso, hard and glistening with sweat from his recent exertion. Nick’s look was not truly one of thanks. He observed me from underneath his thick dark brow, his bulging muscle giving him a menacing look. “Thanks for making it for me, but next time, don’t… it’s special stuff, only designed for me…” Nick almost growled through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow… you…me… college gym… chest day…” Nick continued between big gulps from my protein shaker. Thumping me on the chest with a meaty paw. I said nothing, as I watched the behemouth, swig the luminous orange coloured shake, small droplets escaping as Nick guzzled greedily, landing hapharzardly on his bulging pectoral muscle. “OK!?” Nick yelled, eyes narrowing, before belching loudly. “Yeah, sure Nick, sounds good” Nick eyed me for a few more seconds, turned on his heel and bounced off back to his room. I quickly retreated to bed, the pancake mixture left languishing in the blender. Tomorrow would be a heavy one. The next morning, I was awoken by the deafening bangs on my bedroom door. My head raised from my pillow to find my unimpressive dick had been erect and oozing all night, probably as a consequence of the thought of a gym visit with Nick. This crush had come out of nowhere, but it seemed to be growing stronger the bigger Nick seemed to grow. I dragged myself to the kitchen; Nick was already there, his tight muscle tank straining to hold back his bulging chest. “Time you got up lazy…” grinned Nick “Ready to go?” I croaked “What do you think little man?” he grunted, pulling a crab pose bursting with ripped muscle. As we walked to the campus gym, across the very quiet and expansive campus, the cold bit into my skin, but Nick seemed not to notice. Somehow, the elements only sought to make Nick even more brutally masculine and dominating. Reaching the gym, we headed straight for the weights section, deserted except for a lone American football player grunting softly between reps of squats. I did my level best not to stare at Nick, but mostly failed. His deep golden tan and his coarse dark hair gave him a wealthy exotic appearance, even as he began to warm up his veins pulsed and distended as his a gentle swell began in his muscles. “Chest today…” Nick said visibly bouncing ready to exercise. I berated myself for once again not suggesting a different body part. I only ended up working chest and sometimes shoulders because these are the exercises that Nick wanted a spotter for. I loaded up the bar precariously with extra 20kilo plates just for Nick. Trying his best to ignore me, Nick swung himself down on the bench and got into position in order to begin the workout. In this position, I was rewarded with the vision of the swell and heave of Nick’s chest. Nick on the other hand, would have had to settle for my crotch disturbingly close to his head. “Ready?” Nick grunted, and grabbed the bar, not really giving me time to react. As it transpired I was not immediately required. The new 20 kilo plates seemed like only an extra 5 to Nick’s mounding chest. He couldn’t help himself but smirk as the weight, no doubt felt lighter and easier to manage, than expected. I watched as Nick revelled in the all too familiar sensation in his chest, the pump soared through him, his triceps bulging as his chest bloating from the impact of the weights resistance. Again he pressed it up with ease, his big python plumping down the taught rugby shorts. This had quite literally meant, that whatever he was taking, maybe that new shake, had made him even stronger since last week. “woah dude… this is insane…” I said quietly murmuring watching the spectacle unfold. I watched on, Nick’s chest bulging and swelling as he grinningly pressed the weight, seemingly with growing ease. His arms didn’t shake and his form didn’t falter. His triceps flared, the veins distending along his arms giving him a look of sheer unstoppable power. He racked the weight without any help from me. When it was my turn, plates came off and I got into position, my head now close to Nick’s obscene bulge in his sweats. Not only did it look big, but this close, I could smell the incredible scent of the contents of his jock and it make the usual feelings bubble to the surface. I did my usual workout, my pecs fraught with effort and arms struggling with my usual weight, I watched Nick spot me, as my arms shook with almost half the weight he used, I looked up to him grinning down at me. This gave me the strength to finish my last few reps, but still, it served only to highlight the growing disparity in our muscle strength. The rest of the workout, I was feeling increasingly unhappy seeing Nick blow through all of his maxes and continuing to set new personal bests. I watched, uncomfortably as he nailed every chest exercise with greater than ever strength, amazed as he seemed to cope with anything thrown at him. I was so envious of his success, I figured I had to make a drastic change in my life or I’d get left behind. As I watched Nick strip for the shower, a common ritual after our workouts, that actually, maybe I needed to even the score. Later that night, Nick was out of the flat on a romantic date with his girlfriend. So I sneaked into his room while he was away. If Nick was taking this experimental supplement, there had to be some physical proof, letters, brochures, consent forms; there just had to be something to give me a clue. I needed to get on the trial. As I picked my way through Nick’s room, I found a cryptic letter from the andrology department of our university, now, SCU wasn’t exactly known for its research but, clearly, they were getting something right. However, before I had chance to read the information, I heard the familiar rattle of keys outside of the flat door, in a panic, I threw the letters back into the draw and slammed the draw shut, however in doing so, the cupboard rocked backwards then forwards. I looked upwards, in time to see the contents of one of Nick’s used condoms flow back out of the untied end and splash onto my forearm. I didn’t have time to react; I just bolted from Nick’s room out into the corridor and ran straight for my room. As I closed my door, I could hear Nick and Jenna come home and begin some post-date “activities”. My breathing calmed and my pulse slowed. My attention was drawn to the burning sensation on my right arm; I looked down to see the bright red streak across my supinated arm. I kept looking at it, it was red, and glowing, but there was seemingly no evidence of the disgusting contents of the used rubber. I was feeling hot all over, not just from the burning sensation on my arm, my clothes didn’t feel right on me. In the privacy of my own room, I shucked my clothes and went over to the mirror. I felt a spasm in my gut, then, suddenly, an intense warm glow spread through my body. I looked at myself in the mirror, my pecs hardened, abs tightened. I looked on in amasement, feeling sheer power tear through my body. My traps seemed to thicken, my delts pushed out from shoulders, giving them a fuller, rounded look. I was even convinced I was taller. I felt my legs precipitously thicken, I watched the inner head of the quadriceps surge into view, which only happened when I flexed, and yet, I wasn’t flexing. I looked up at my face, for the first time since I started college, I felt that I looked handsome and healthy. A grin unconsciously spread across my face. I had no idea how this happened, but I absolutely loved it. I posed for a little while longer. Feeling the bulge and play of my newly developed musculature, the heady experience of being taller, if only a fraction… Best of all the sensation that I must have a semi, except my cock was fully flaccid. I gyrated my hips watching the new piece of meat bounce around. It got hard easily and I wrapped my hand around it. My legs nearly gave way as my cock began firing round after round across the room, ribbons of pure white spunk blasted out and still my cock bounced in front of me, as if to fire again. I tucked the raging pole back into my strained boxers and glanced in the mirror. “Fuck yeah” I grunted, trying to flex my abs. Only, I’d never sworn into the mirror before… or actually… in many years. My stomach growled so I went to the kitchen dressed only my boxers. The bulge still present as I walked, for the first time, it seemed to bounce up and down gently as I walked along. I got into the kitchen, surprised to find Nick there, sat alone at the table, also dressed only in his boxers. He looked pale, and not in his usually arrogant vigour. The pale palour even made him look a little less masculine than normal. “You ok bro?” I said, sounding surprisingly manly. “Yeah, yeah, just had a bit of a funny turn…” Said Nick cryptically. The next morning, I woke up for the gym. I casually wrapped my hand around a raging morning erection, the cock, seemed bigger and stronger than I ever remembered. I brushed my hands up my thinner waist, across my flat stomach to the new shallow contours on my chest from my thickened pectorals. My hand found its way to the alarm clock, but it seemed I had awakened before my alarm clock, before Nick had the chance to wake me. I felt incredible after last night’s dramatic turn of events. Not only mentally but physically. I could feel energy just seem to stream out of me, I was ready to lift. The thoughts of stealing Nick’s new experimental protein shake could not be further from my mind at the moment, as a night’s sleep and deliberation had led me to the conclusion it was probablyresponsible for the effects of his potent spunk. I dressed, in front of the mirror, looking at my new body. I smiled as I quickly gave my arms a flex and my fresh, new biceps jumped up in my arms, now slightly less egg like, now definitely more fusiform in their appearance. Quietly dressing and walking out into the corridor, there was no Nick waiting with an annoyed glare, so I made for the kitchen. Nick’s half eaten breakfast was still on the table as he was filling up his protein shaker. “Y.. you’re up?” he croaked. I looked at him, he looked sleepy and tired. He rubbed his eyes and kept blinking at me. He was haphazardly dressed and his hair matted down to his head from the sweat of his night time activities with Jenna. “Are you ok dude?” “Err, just feeling a bit rough.” He answered, still staring at me. “Dude… did… you look like you, *ahem*, you’ve been making progress in the gym…” He continued, still staring at my chest. “Yeah, I think you might be right dude.” I replied, desperately avoiding the urge to show off my chest by flexing in front of Nick. He prepared his shake and we headed out. In the car, as we drove, I could feel Nick’s eyes stealing odd glances at me. I began to regret wearing the sleeveless top as I wasn’t sure if he was actually paying attention to the road. I could feel my balls tingle at the thought of a workout, I couldn’t wait to test my new muscle and I couldn’t wait to show Nick that I was capable of catching him up. As we arrived at the gym, he turned to me before we exited the car. “How did you do it dude?” “Do what Nick?” “How did you get bigger, we only worked out together yesterday, and now, you’re bigger… how?” “Nick, are you ok? I’m the same, just been working out hard.” “Dude, seriously?” “You’re delusional, now drop it” I growled with an uncharacteristic aggressive tone in my voice. Nick clearly got the message and promptly stopped asking questions, but his dark stare intensified. In the gym, Nick’s chest workout was woeful, his lifts were slightly down, he grunted and flailed with his usual weight and made much use of me as spotter. Clearly this bothered him, because he was getting progressively sharp in his statements as the hour wore on. When he had first removed his hooded jumper, he looked sick and, almost smaller. I however, was having a great workout, I loved the feeling of my chest bulging outward, the stretch of the fabric against it, the surge of the feeling of power and pride throughout me, setting new strength goals, took all my focus not to get rock hard. Whilst this was going on Nick, eyed me jealously. I could feel his cold dark eyes burning into me as he reluctantly spotted me for a new personal best. Before we could hit the showers, Nick insisted we do a flat bench press. I felt this was more of an exercise to prove a point instead of the training value of adding in another heavy set, complex lift at the end of the workout. As I pressed the weight up, I felt my body burn with exertion, I felt amazing. I added almost 10kg to my previous bench from yesterday, even with exhausted pectoral muscles from the previous hour workout. Nick racked up his usual weight, and through much straining and gritting of teeth and of course, some help from his loyal spotter, was able to do a few reps at his usual weight. As he racked the weight, it was clear the point he was trying to make, had not been as clearly illustrated as he had hoped. As he stared at me I obliviously fondled my swollen chest muscle. “What?” I asked “Nothing, lets hit the showers…” he said grinning for the first time today. Nick’s mood seemed to improve here as we entered the changing room. As he rather quickly undressed, I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming. “Coming to shower?” he asked, grinning at me, as he intentionally groped his thick, soft cock, though wanting me to believe it as a mere adjustment for comfort. I undressed at the normal speed, grabbed my towel and followed him into the shower. As I walked in, I watched him slowly lather soap into his thick musculature. His soft cock, swinging gently back and forth as his arms worked above him. I turned my head, to glance at his cock, figuring the water must be colder than usual, as it seemed a fraction smaller than usual. As I got myself under a shower head, I looked over at him again. He was looking at me, but our eyes didn’t meet, he was looking downward at my groin. “Dude, come on, you took some of my protein didn’t you?” he said unexpectedly “Look, Nick, I didn’t…” “Listen, I told you to stay away from it.” He grunted, his eyes looking cruel with a darker hue. I glanced down at me, across my now swollen pecs, my flattered stomach, to my soft cock, I then glanced over at him. His cock looked back to its old size if not bigger, as our eyes met. I realised, that his cock was thickening. Never before had I seen Nick like this, his skin flushing, his cock becoming increasingly aroused. “You uh… need a hand there bud?” I snickered. Within a second he was on me, his powerful hands grabbing both my shoulders. When they wouldn’t yield he dragged me, hanging onto my smaller frame, causing us to collapse to the floor. I struggled against the huge bulk of his weight on top of me. A leg each side of my chest, he positioned himself on top of my pectorals, his big, thick cock growing up and outwards towards my face. His cock brushed my lips. “Is this what you wanted? Stealing glances at me all the time? Well, how does it feel now? Enjoying?” He grunted, thrusting his hips forward at the upward inflection of each question. He took hold of his long, engorging rod and smacked my lips with it. “Please st-“ before I could finished speaking, the salty, musky flavour of Nick’s thick member exploded forth as he sunk the head into my open mouth. His powerful thighs extended on top of me as more of the colossally large pole slid into my mouth. I tried to speak, but the organ took up all of my mouth, I tried to remove myself, but his huge legs pinned me. As he held himself up with one of his mighty arms, another steadied my head as he began driving the mammoth shaft in and out of my mouth. As he began pumping, I could feel a familiar burning throughout my limbs that I felt the other night after getting his cum on my arm. I could feel the precum drip down my throat, rather than fight this, I knew to let it happen, I would reach my goals, and Nick, total unknowingly, would help me. If I hadn’t had his huge rod in my mouth, I’m not sure I could hold back the grin I would have had on my face. I felt trapped as his mammoth legs pinned me, as he pumped himself into my face. I had to focus on breathing, but I could feel his pre already start to work on me, the power swelling within me like a tide. Nick was absorbed in sating his carnal urge, I brought my arms up around his muscular waist, I watched as the veins snaked and squirmed their way to the surface of my biceps, muscle fibres thickening, the individual muscles becoming visible in my forearms. I felt great, I wanted this, I urged it to happen. He grunted above, clearly enjoying himself, just as the effects of his pre began to slacken, I felt his hips increase speed an intensity. As his orgasm ripped through him, I could feel his seed fire into the back of my throat again and again. Greedily, as best that I was able, I sucked down as much as I could handle, gleefully knowing it would be my flatmates undoing. He grunted once again and then withdraw his mighty organ from my slickened mouth, shook the last remnants of his pure white spunk onto my chest. “You tell anyone about this… and I’ll end you…” His powerful body swaggered off back to the changing room, but yet as I watched him leave, I thought I could see a little less definition in his expansive back. As I lay there on the shower floor, I felt the seed I had just swallowed get to work on me. Slowly it burned in my guts, filling me with ever increasing power. I knew then, his act had given me strength beyond anything I could have achieved in a year of gym visits. I felt my ass thicken, broaden and push me up from the floor, I felt less of the floor as my back broadened and dense muscle moved in to cushion the bone. I jumped up, my stronger powerful legs growing at a pace. I glanced down to see my pecs swell, my flat stomach, flatten even more, the first hints of my abdominals erupt from beneath the skin. I grabbed onto the shower bar as more power bolted through my body. I felt the room lower as my entire body lengthened. My mouth let out an involuntary grown as my neck muscles bulged, reaching my arms up to explore my thickening neck, my new, stronger biceps bulged with power. I raced into the locker room, but I was alone, Nick had long since left, I looked into the mirror and didn’t realise the new, taller, stronger and all round more masculine Sam staring back. I pulled a double bicep pose, amazed at the sheer size and power contained within my arms, I’m not sure the average person on the street would consider them big, but I was on my way. They had to be 15 inches around, I estimated. Best of all, the familiar hardening of my cock, had a most unfamiliar quality to it. Looking down, my erection strained the now tighter swimmer trunks, the bolder individual leg muscles fought the elastic. I as I slipped down, the apparently looser waist band, I was more than happy to see my usually unimpressive erection, looked super hard, but also both longer and thicker. My bigger balls pulsed below it, urging me to lift, urged me to fight and to persue. I resisted however, and redressed myself and made for home, I had a plan. (to be continued)
  20. MaxoVision Men

    Hey guys! Started this story a loooong time ago. Finally decided to finish it. It's weird and I like that. Hope you do to. To see more of my stuff (and to show your support!) please consider following my patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus. Enjoy! In a small dark room on the forty third story of MaxoVision Tower, Henry woke up. His asthmatic coughing echoed around the dorm as he pushed his wiry frame out of bed. His feet slapped on metallic flooring, instantly chilling him. He crossed his arms around his hairless torso as he approached the aluminum sink in the corner. He wetted his hand under the tap and smeared the number ‘3’ off his smudgy mirror. Without much attention to detail, Henry lifted his tube of toothpaste and made strokes to write a ‘4’ on the surface in its place. 24 days, that’s how long he had been in the dank little room, and he was no closer to finding out the reason for his imprisonment than the he was when he had first woken up there He rinsed the toothpaste resin from his hands and cupped them under the facet. He was jolted to alertness with the chill of water splashed onto his face. He regarded himself with a furrowed brow. He was 18, had just graduated from high school, and was looking forward to beginning university in the fall. His perfect grades had netted him a place in Harvard. All that had been dashed however, when he found himself in this mysterious dark dorm. Self proclaimedly, Henry was ‘one for books and not for looks.’ His body had been entirely nondescript when he was kidnapped. Kidnapped… “Is that what happened to me?” He wondered aloud. The past 23 days had not seen it change at all. He was provided consistent offerings of food from a slit under the door that seemed to keep his weight at exactly the same spot. While his weight remained the same, he did notice one odd change. He pulled at his side and his skin stretched miraculously far before snapping back into its original position. Henry frowned once again, he had never heard of any disease that could do this to someone, but he was pretty sure it was not a sign of good health. At any rate, it didn’t actually change his appearance and didn’t bother him for any other reason than its oddness. A loud and deep grunt echoed through the hallway beyond Henry’s metal door. He gulped. There was something else that was unusual about this place. He lived with giants. Once a day for the past 23 days, his door had swung open, and Henry was forced to leave and hide, or be found by one of the hulking beasts that roamed the dimly lit corridors of his prison. So far, he had been successful. He knew that there were others like him in there, normal people. He heard their yells and cries of fear when the doors were unlocked and the beasts were allowed to roam free. He had also known one for a brief ten minute before he was taken by one of the creatures. He had only captured glimpses and glances at the creatures that terrorized him for one hour during the day. He was able to evade them, but if they couldn’t see them, he couldn’t see them. Hiding was key because they could any normal man and take him in an instant if they wanted to, and that seemed to be all the mindless things wanted… He had always been able to make it back into his room shortly after the warning bell that announced that their doors could once again be shut and locked. But there had been one close call… On one of his first days in the mysterious institution (what else could it be called), Henry allowed fear to overtake him and sprinted for his door after hearing the warning chime. His light but loud footsteps had attracted the attention of one of the beasts, bringing it around the corner to come face to face with Henry just as he was turning into his room. He heard it and smelt it before he saw it. Great slapping thuds of footsteps that instantly struck panic into Henry’s heart. And the smell of sweat and musk, overpowering to the point where Henry felt lightheaded and nauseous. He only had about two second to observe the charging creature before he lept into his room and slammed the door. Those two second were all he needed. It looked like a half-naked man, but muscled beyond compare. Henry had time to register thickly corded legs that pumped their way ever closer to him and two globular and hairy pecs heaving in the dark. Henry’s last view before slamming the door was a comically broad stubbled jaw and empty, hungry eyes. Henry vaguely knew what happened if they caught you. He had seen it happen to another unlucky runner. The man had been outrun by one of the creatures. The beast had pinned him down and positioned his massive tool over the small man’s ass. Henry didn’t have time to see the rest, but he saw the results days later in the halls. His friend had become another mindless creature, a fate that was almost more terrifying than death to Henry. “Brraahhhh!” The chimes echoed as his door clanged open. Henry was immediately roused from his memories by the roar of the creatures in the dark. He knew he couldn’t stay in his room long, so he slipped into the dark along his regular route. 23 days later and his feeling of horror still hadn’t subsided from the situation. He inched along, wall to wall. Listening intently for the sign of laboured breathing and heavy footsteps. His heart lurched as he turned a corner and spied one of the men’s mammoth backs, glistening with sweat, lurching through the darkness in the distance before darkness shrouded it from sight. Henry counted to ten before slowly turning to go in the opposite direction. Ten minutes later and there was no sight or sound of the creature, and Henry was beginning to relax. He was nearing his door and he knew the chimes would sound soon. As if on cue, the loud buzz filled the hallways and then left Henry in silence once again. He quickened his pace as his door came into view. And then, his worst fears were realized. One of the muscle creatures appeared out of the darkness opposite him, and infront of his door. He could see its intense gaze and tensing muscles as it prepared to charge. Henry broke into a sprint towards the creature and his door. “Damn!” He thought. The beast smiled in the dark as he watched his prey barrel towards him! Henry’s mind raced as he evaluated his options. Turning around and running wasn’t an option, he’d be caught. He just needed to get to his door. He held his breath and braced as he neared the incoming wall of muscle at breakneck speed. At the last second he dropped down to the ground in a skid as two vein-corded arms swiped the air inches above his head. He could smell the beast as he passed underneath it, his nostrils filled with the thing’s musk. Henry skidded into his room and turned to see the door slide shut and then an impossibly loud thump as the creature slammed into it. He grimaced as the creature roared in frustration. Propping himself against the door, henry shut his eyes and let out ragged gasps, he was safe. He waited a moment to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. There had been at least a minute of silence. He opened his eyes and groaned at the site of his crotch. He was sporting a modest tent in the black briefs that he had found himself in 24 days before. This wasn’t unusual, running in the hallways was the only time that he really did anything physical, and well, he was 18. Henry always felt disgusted with himself for his body’s untimely urges, it reminded him too much of the hungry things outside his door. Nonetheless, he realized he would be done with that business sooner if he just dealt with it then and there. He fished his modest cock out of the briefs and began stroking. The wave of pleasure was immediate and intense. He gasped as a small stream of precum erupted from his swollen manhood. He used the extra lubrication to begin stroking faster, his dick felt hard and sensitive. He unconsciously brought his hand to his sweat drenched chest and began rubbing. He looked down at himself. His daily escapades in the hallways had done him well, the two modest pecs and the hint of abs that he sported now were more muscle than he had ever achieved before. His legs showed the same amount of development, decent quads jutted to the sides above thick diamond calves. Henry groaned as he stroked. He no longer wanted to just get it over with, he couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on! He instinctively wiped the sweat away from his lips and roughly stubbled jaw with a hairy forearm. His mind only had a second to be confused by the odd appearance of hair on his forearms and stubble on his jaw when he realized that he had wiped more than sweat away from this face. He stood up to look at his pale and sweaty reflection in the mirror. A line of gooey liquid ran across his face as well as over and in his mouth. His eyes widened in renewed horror. Had the creature leaked precum on him? In him? Would that be enough to turn him into… Panic welled in Henry’s tightening chest. He rubbed it instinctively, barely noticing the appearance of soft hair on it. A new form of lust gripped him as he cupped a meaty pec in his hand. He began squeezing the muscle and flexing it. Squeezing and flexing. Squeezing and flexing… He broke his gaze from the blurry growing image in the mirror to look down at his body. It almost looked the same as it had that morning. A little more muscle, a little more hair, but certainly nothing like the hairy behemoths that chased him in the halls. Henry shook his head and took a few small gulps of air, reassuring himself that he wasn’t actually growing. Feeling ridiculous, he pulled the briefs back on and sank onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling and listened to the muffled noises coming from outside his room. That night Henry dreamt of hallways, running, and muscle. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of a bloated, veiny quad or ham-like forearms swinging into view. His? The next morning Henry tossed himself out of bed immediately after waking. He took a few resolute steps to the mirror and studied his reflection. A breathe of relief escaped his lips-he hadn’t changed. Henry plopped back on his bed and waited for the alarm that would signal another day running from beasts. Henry started from the scrape of his food tray sliding across the concrete. He realized he wasn’t very hungry. He felt his belly and thought he was bloated even. The thought of more food made him grimace so he pushed it back through the slot. Nobody seemed to care that he wasn’t going to eat, so he continued to wait for the alarm. He estimated only half an hour until go time… He listened as his stomach gurgled away. He was feeling fuller and fuller by the minute. “Ugh,” he groaned. He sat up and sighed, the uncomfortable feeling wasn’t going anywhere. “How am I supposed to run like this?” He thought. His brow ruffled in concern as the tightness around his abdomen worsened. ‘Riiiiip.’ Henry gasped as he felt his shirt give way. He looked down at a hairy, blocky gut. The sight was totally foreign to him. “What…” Was all he was able to mumble before more of his body was wracked with more cramps. He doubled down onto the floor, letting his palms and new-grown belly slap onto the cold concrete. “Urgh.” He could feel beads of sweat rolling down his face and the back of his neck. He watched in panic as they splashed on the concrete. Horror gripped him as he began to suspect the worst. Glancing to his left he noticed veins practically pulsing on the back of his hand, and rising up his sweat-slicked arm… “Oh god,” he breathed as he stared at his arm. His gaze rose along a bulging ham-like forearm, to a hose sized bicep vein, and then to a mass of vascular skin and muscle that was his biceps and triceps. “No no no no no,” he mumbled to himself, the syllables coming out deeper than he intended. It was becoming harder to think. He pushed himself over onto his back and lay panting at the ceiling. He desperately pawed at his shifting body. His widening hands gripped even wider pecs. He could feel a new covering of sweat-matted hair and the crevice in the middle of his chest becoming deeper. He felt the weight of his pecs pulling to each side of his body as the muscle seemed to pile on quicker and quicker. He let his massive hands fall down to his abdomen. The hairy gut was still there, but now it was textured with blocks of hard muscle. His thickening fingers (they would never be able to use a smartphone properly again) fell in and out of the trenches of his abs. Henry groaned with resignation for what he was becoming as his hands felt striated quads under the straining fabric of his briefs. He used his overdeveloped abs to prop himself into a crunch. His eyes widened with wonder and horror as he watched his lower body transform. The briefs stretched to translucency as his quads sweeped ever wider. He noticed his vantage point rising as his ass grew thick with muscle. He gingerly traced his now brutish fingers along the veins that webbed his thighs. His calves were covered in dark hairs that were slicked down with sweat, allowing criss crossing veins to be visible under the fur. Like his hands, Henry’s feet were stretching and thickening, becoming practically beast-like. He grimaced and began to groan as the briefs became overloaded with muscle and, he noticed, a rapidly growing package as well. “Urrgggghhhhhhhh,” he groaned deeply. The groan turned into a gravely growl, and then a full-blown roar when the briefs finally gave way as monstrous quads, dick, and balls spilled out. Henry was cemented in place on the ground as all human thoughts receded forever. He sniffed the room, smelling the musk baking off his body. An alarm rang out and he tossed his bulk onto his monstrous feet. The beast’s hairy, gargantuan body met a gust of cool air as the door slid open. He sniffed once. Twice. And then lumbered into the labyrinthine hallways. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of a bloated, veiny quad or ham-like forearms swinging into view. His. The beast stopped. Did he hear a footstep? He grunted and swung his head to see a tiny man at the end of the hall. The beast didn’t recognize the man’s fear, he only smelled his sweat and felt lust swell through his own body. He began walking towards the petrified man, and then broke into a lumbering run. With meaty slaps echoing in the hallway, the smaller man’s hesitation was broken and he dove away from the incoming behemoth. He cringed from a thunderous crash, a roar, and what sounded like falling debris. He looked to his side to see a hole in the wall with bright light streaming out. “Fuck that,” he thought before splitting off into the darkness of the hallways. The beast looked out into a vast white nothingness. As his eyes adjusted to the hot glare of a morning sun, he began to make out the vision of a sprawling cityscape. He rose to his feet, letting pieces of plaster slide off his body. A blur of motion caught his eye as drones laden with video cameras twirled and swooped in front of his vision. Henry resurfaced long enough to know where he was. The beast hung his head and pounded softly on the glass with meaty fists. He was in Tokyo, and the newest member of MaxoVision’s infamous transformed pornstars. A billboard floated past his window confirming his thought, ‘The company that brings you the porn of the future, MaxoVision!’ Find more stories like this and other muscle growth art on my Patreon page.
  21. Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1510-belly-down/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1525-belly-down-part-2/ Part 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1530-belly-down-part-3/ Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/3401-belly-down-part-4/ Part 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7002-belly-down-part-5/ Part 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7146-belly-down-part-6/ Part 7 “Good work, Hans, but watch yourself. 283” said Coach John as he confirmed the weight on the old scale. Normally, I would have stuffed my chest out at the proclamation of my name but, in all honesty, I was beside myself as I turned and aimed my big body toward the mats. No matter how much my big, veined arms pulsed or my rolling legs bulged or my abdominal muscles flexed, I still wasn’t truly satisfied. I wasn’t going to be satisfied until my training exceeded the progress I’d seen from the little red-headed pipsqueak. Speaking of the devil, I halted in my tracks as I nearly collided with something shorter than me but almost as wide. I scowled at the face not many inches below mine but quickly brushed past the owner as I continued my passage. Just as I left the exit, my minions in tow, I heard numbers I’d been dreading. “264, Kenny. Goddamn, you’ve gotten big.” “Yeah, sorry, Coach. I’ve been hungry for more like a beast” came the deep and booming voice of Kenny. I need to be stronger, more powerful, I thought with vigor. I grabbed my Powerade from one of the benches as I passed the doorway. “Hans, wait. That’s not yours! You had a red Powerade! That one’s—“ My comparatively tiny lackeys collided with my bulging back as I halted in my tracks. All it took was a single glare of my flaring blue eyes to halt them. They knew who was boss. No one beneath me was allowed to question my actions. Without breaking eye contact, I ripped the lid of the bottle and guzzled the blue liquid as if it were the victory I’d craved from my opponents. My chin dripped with the little I missed and trickled down my hulking bare chest like a river. Without thinking, I threw the now empty container at the trash can, uncaring of whether it made it or not, and pushed through the double doors to train. I am and will always be the best— “Ugh, Miststück” --- Kenny turned at the loud roar from behind him, turning from the coach. “Kenny! Attention!” Kenny quickly returned back to his standing position on the machine judging his weight. “You’ve got your info, you’re too big to shrink down to a lower class so you’re going in for heavyweight. Off my machine!” roared Coach John. Kenny leaped off, something that seemed pretty odd on someone with as much weight as he carried. It had only been a few months since he was a midget at almost less than 100 lbs. With 264 pounds on a 6’3 frame, he was definitely a big guy by most standards. The other team members often moved around him in fear of colliding with his meaty tonnage. The last person to do so slammed into him like a car collision and was sent to the floor 6 feet away. Proud of yourself? If half the things you thought were audio recorded, any Psychology class would think you’re a narcissist. We’ve got other things to deal with. Was that my imagination, I thought loudly. No, I felt that too. Something’s up. That felt….. familiar. What does that— Don’t worry about that, it’s late. We’ve got to go fight crime or else who will stop the meteor from hitting Tokyo?! Just shut up, Kenny said as he also left the room, his teammates still lined up to be weighed. Neither he nor Nick noticed the Powerade bottle, only the strange energy coming from the locker room’s exit. Had they noticed the bottle, they’d have noticed the strange coloring. Or the demonic energy coming off of it. Or the demonic ritual circle burned into the bottom. --- The gym was dark as the staff had left all but a few of the facilities open for one of the college athletes who’d insisted on remaining. Normally they would have insisted but it’s hard to deny 6 and a half foot giant like Hans. The German hulk of a man roared as he tumbled on the wrestling mat like a monster looking for prey. His mental imagery of his enemies was what pushed him through the grueling hours of training, his big sweaty body pulsing with strain and power. Each muscle was wrapped in tanned and bulging reddened skin that stretched the tight signlet with each movement. His proportions, especially for someone his size, exuded girth and power that most couldn’t acquire without as much genetic advantage and hard work as he coveted. Hans fell flat on his round butt cheeks as he exhausted himself practicing a grapple using a dummy the team liked to use for learning new moves. The plastic doll was mangled from use but definitely far more so after Hans exerted his power onto it. His thick knuckles squeezed and bent the object like a cobra. Hans had worked against the doll for hours, since the time his weight was recorded. Still he wasn’t satisfied. His eyes glazed over with the vision of Kenny taking down opponents over the months. The little wrestler had grown into a power house and rapidly chased Hans in strength and size. Hans had been doing his best to train against those weaker than him in his weight class but he was too strong for any one of them to be worth a challenge. His two lackey-friends were amongst those weaker members and, although they were good at throwing their weight around, both were easy to overpower with their bodies being mostly fat. Hans was against the wall now as all the odds were against his progression. He was too strong, too big, and too good for anyone to train with and the new rival to come out of his former bully target was fast approaching him. This frustration seemed to almost choke him and send tears to his eyes. His parents had sent him cards congratulating him no his success in America and hoping for him to continue to advance in the ranks until he was the best of the best. But he wasn’t just muscle, he used his brains like a scholar. He knew that, at the rate Kenny was going, he could and would approach his size. Where could this growth spurt have come from? He’d doubled in size and was quickly reaching the ceiling of weight class. Hans couldn’t afford to grow more than 2 pounds with the same restrictions. He wanted more power but his body was already giving him plenty and, with a few years, would give more but not at the speed he wanted. College was short and success was within reach. Hans sat up from his sprawled position, his veins bulging desperately to produce blood and his sweat dripping onto the mat. He lifted his hefty body up and quickly lunged for the dummy when something felt wrong. “Wha—“ I—Can—You------- Big------------ Hans’s brow wrinkled and his blurry, tear covered vision shook. Something was speaking into his mind like a voice over a radio. He hadn’t noticed his body was not only numb from the pain of training but from general lack of feeling. One moment he saw colors in view and the next, they all smoothened to over in blue, as if he put colored contact lenses on incorrectly. Hans roared a german swear word as his big pecs squeezed and his big biceps flexed and his hands reached as if grabbing a ball in the air. His body convulsed for a full minute and his face reddened with the strain before…… nothing. Hans felt as if he was between being awake and being asleep. He looked up at the ceiling, all of the color returned. He sat and looked down at his hands as if nothing had happened, his legs still entangled with the plastic dolls body. Suddenly, Hans felt his entire arm bulge and, as if a bomb were in his arm, his arm bulged out of proportion with the rest of his body. “What the—“ You don’t need to use another weird German swear for this, right? I honestly couldn’t handle it. Hans felt his body parts bulge in odd places as his portions distored to something other than human. The muscles grew like balloons, tightening against one another as each joint was quickly filled to capacity with power before being widened and stuffed again. You’re quite a specimen. I could just fill you full of muscles and you wouldn’t pop until you were tall enough to crush a freight train with your pinkie toe. Excellent! Hans couldn’t concentrate on what the suddenly loud and strangely proper voice said to him as he tried to control his body. The muscles coming into him were hot to the touch and filled him with as much power as there was weight. We’ll have to keep you on the minimal output for now though. You’ll get too big for belief at this rate. Then that red idiot will spot me instantly. I’ll have to take precautions to avoid his detection. Hans tried to scream but someone refused to allow him to do so as his muscles filled his huge body until even his height of 6 and a half feet tall was filled to the brim. It was only when his singlet tore down the middle of his chest and his now gigantic feet blew his shoes that the growing ended and he was able to breath again. Muscle filled his vision in almost all directions. His shoulders scrapped his ears and his traps pushed his head forward. Han’s square jaw couldn’t be lowered as two unnaturally round cinderblocks the size of watermelons swelled beneath and restricted his movement. He couldn’t see below but, feeling the difficulty moving his other limbs, he had grown terrifyingly big, too large for the clothes he’d recently bought at the Big & Tall store nearby. He felt power from his tight abdominals and round arm muscles that he’d never before felt. Every movement of his thick and colliding thighs was an orgasmic feeling of utter power unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His thick forearms were thicker than any bicep and were veined like an ant hill diagram. Just as he felt all the power and energy enter his brain, something long and thick slapped his stomach, both surfaces hard enough to make a thud audible throughout the gym. Hans gasped as he witness a big, drooling cock head glaring at him, the foreskin pulled back as it couldn’t contain such a leviathan. Don’t worry, I’ll make this ride equally enjoyable. Humans don’t have many needs. Sex and power, correct? Hans struggled to agree as the contact of skin made him moan and even moving his torso stroked the godly phallus. So, which do you think is appropriate to balance out this power? Take some power off the top or make you taller? Hans was close to orgasm as he felt his spine tingle and then snap as if it were stretching itself. To Be Continued…..
  22. The Iron Bug - Part IV

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V
  23. Becoming

    Preface Arpeejay once suggested, that growth stories hypothetically could be broken down into a minimalist string of suggestive buzzwords, and leave any plot details out. This story doesn't go entirely that far, but I got my inspiration from that remark, so I want to thank you, Arpeejay. Some of my older stories are still unfinished. If any of my readers have misgivings about their completion, please know, that I hope to, by time, finish them. Neither have I forgotten my promises to some of you: The stories dedicated to you are in the pipeline, but everyday life takes a lot of time. Becoming It was dark when you woke up. Surrounded by utter darkness, you had no idea about the place. Something tight, yet soft and malleable, surrounded you, encapsulating you, like a cocoon. It was hard to remember your own name, and you couldn't remember how you had got there. Your sedated mind clawed in the direction of consciousness, trying to find the words, and then, dimly, you began to realise, that THEY must had taken you captive. You shuddered. No one knew, what happened, when THEY took captives. The missing ones just... disappeared. Who knew, what THEY would do to those, who didn't avoid them or fled? Who knew which unspeakable fate awaited you in this unknown place? Your heart rate began to increase, and fear stirred in your gut. Compared to THEM you felt so weak, and, in your defenceless situation, you felt a raw and naked vulnerability. Your heart continued to beat rapidly, and fear didn't wane entirely, but something else stirred in your belly, and the feeling spread to your loins. The cocoon pressed itself against your bum, and a pleasant pressure was building in your chest. A wave of pleasure spread through your entire body. Then another one. Your hair tingled on your head, and you became aware of, that you now had a very short buzzcut. "Like them", you thought, and fear began to rise again, but another wave of pleasure took the brunt of the dawning terror. The hair on your forearms tingled. A wave of delightful heat rippled through your body, making you relax from your alerted sense of danger, filling you with serene calm... and something else. Power. You swallowed. Something similar to the soreness after lifting heavy things was spreading in your arms and your chest. A pain, but a good sort of pain. The soreness spread to your back, your bum, your belly and your legs, causing a heightened awareness of your physical presence. You were now fully present in the full extension of your body, and acutely aware of every muscle fibre of your's. Another wave of pleasant heat. Your dick awakened. You moaned. A feeling similar to muscle pump spread in your back and chest, your shoulders and arms. The fear was still striking alarm, silently screaming to your reason, that something was wrong. Something was very wrong. You were becoming one of THEM! By which undreamed means it was happening, you couldn't know, nor could you guess THEIR motivation to let you undergo this becoming, but, with growing certainty, you realised, that this was the true nature of the brutal process taking place. For a short moment, you panicked, and your reason was screaming silent words of terror: "No! Not THEM! Not like THEM! I'm an ordinary man. I am myself, not someone else. I didn't ask for this. I abhor this, this..." Your reason rapidly lacked any suitable words, and you realised, that your mental protests gradually lacked conviction. Your body was swiftly becoming less and less your own, and more and more a specimen of THEM, but your reason was loosing the struggle: There was nothing to stop the procedure now, and a newly awakened part of your mind eagerly embraced the becoming. Perhaps, that part of your mind had existed all the time, but slumbered, dormant? It was now awake. Your gut hardened, tightened, and, at a burning, but not exclusively painful, sensation you could feel six perfectly shaped abs become visible. Under them, the sensitive area between the navel and the root of your dick turned into a pair of muscular shields, and an Adonis' belt formed at each side. A wave of pleasure rippled through you again: A wave of empowerment. Your abs grew, and the ravines between them became deeper. The fabric of the cocoon pressed itself against your widening and hardening back, and made you aware of how defined and powerful your Y-shaped back was becoming. Power. You could feel the strength of your legs increase. Quads and hamstrings grew into a size you couldn't have imagined, and your calves turned into an insane size and shape. Brawn. Strength. Power. You moaned again, and your muscle mass convulsed. It felt good. Convulsed. Tensed. Flexed. So big and hard. Look at you! Look at this brutish bruiser! No one would dare to oppose you! You were becoming one of THEM! Fuck, yeah: One of THEM, and THEY will be proud of having someone like you as part of them. The feeling of your veins crawling over your biceps. Over your pecs. Over your legs. The feeling of the visible striation of muscle fibres of your pecs. Of your glutes. You moaned again. Your voice was deeper now. You swallowed. It felt so perfect. It couldn't become better, could it? So heavy. So present. The ability to lift. The ability to crush. The ability to force. So heavy. So powerful. It was then the becoming intensified. Wave after wave of increasing power rippled through every atom of your powerfully built body. The jugular vein of your bull neck pulsated, and your traps became like a ridge of granite. You could feel how you were growing taller, and how your shoulders grew wider and wider apart. Your muscle mass was increasing even faster, turning you into a titan of massive brawn. The process was running its course uncontrollably and unstoppably, but you had no reason to control or stop it. No, no reason at all. Testosterone filled your veins, your sweat. Molten steel ran in your bloodstream and was building up in your nuts. You roared in uncontrolled masculine ecstacy, while your muscle fibres excelled in hyperplasia and hypertrophy, your brain and your mind drowning in male hormones. Most women would probably have found your level of muscularity disgustingly exaggerated now, but if anyone would have told you, you would have shrugged it off: You revelled in your strength and stature, not for the sake of appealing to women, but in order to show your male brothers your POWER. Your own weight, the unyielding hardness of your flesh and the overwhelming intensity of the becoming filled your mind, when the process reached its maximum. You ripped the cocoon apart and began to cum at the same time, revealing your sweat-soaked and tanned physique to the watching crowds of THEM, who were watching you approvingly, giving you well-deserved admiring looks. With a roar, and flexing the deadly weapons, which were your newfound muscles, you asserted yourself in your new pack.
  24. The Grow Fish

    After a fun weekend on the beach, I had a bit of inspiration and this is the start of what I thought would really just be a short scene type of story. Please forgive the typos, grammatical errors and such as I just needed to get this started and posted... I literally couldn't sleep with this story floating around in my head haha. Hope you enjoy! The Grow Fish Part 1 The weather was perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better day on the beach, and it was the 4th of July no less! The local gay beach would be overrun with guys from LA to San Diego, and as luck would have it, I arrived with my boyfriend early enough to secure a prime spot, just up the sand from the wave tossed water front. This was exactly where you wanted to be to watch all the hot, bathing suit-clad guys as they ran into the water in varying degrees of near nakedness. Yes, today would be the perfect start to another glorious Southern California summer! My boyfriend, Jesse, and I had been dating nearly 7 months. Surprising to both of us, considering our much longer history of chatting on and off on Grindr. It took us practically a year to even meet in the first place. I wasn’t in a hurry to date, enjoying new found freedom from my previous relationship… Ok lets call it what it is: I was being a sex crazed man-whore. And with the body I’d been working on over the past couple years, finding some hot hookups was not a challenge! At just a hair under 6 foot, I’d taken my 32 year old rather average and slightly overweight 215 pound body down to a lean, muscular 185. Not that I let it go to my head, really. I was still a bit modest and unused to the amount of attention I could garner from the thirsty crowd of horny males cluttering the gay apps… all ultimately looking for sex, thinly veiled behind a mask of friendship or gym buds, or whatever line they cared to use. But modesty didn’t stop me from enjoying the reward of my hard work! In contrast, Jesse, was all too happy to give me time and space to explore. Apparently, he saw more in me than one night of fun. We did meet last spring, however, and hit it off epically. What originally started as a few dates turned into a couple months, and some really great sex along the way. While he’s not a buffed up gym rat like myself, he sports a smaller, less muscular 5’7” dancer’s frame. The difference is actually what I find appealing… I get to be the big muscular boyfriend, and he loves appreciating my bigger body and how it feels against his own. Sometimes I'd even noticed him proudly showing off his man to his friends via some of my Instagram photos. Eventually, though, he broke it off, saying I was still unprepared for anything serious. We stayed in touch, and after months with a growing sense of desire for something more concrete and a distaste for all the meaningless sex, I asked him out again. With some obvious trepidation and discussion of what he was truly looking for in this potential relationship, we agreed to make it exclusive. Now, nearly 2 years after our initial online conversation, here we were: madly in love, enjoying the sun, sand, and cleverly disguised drinks of Gatorade and vodka with our close friends, under one of a couple hundred canopies, umbrellas and tents that lined the beach. All that remained was to kick back, and mentally undress the horde of sexy men flaunting their bodies before us, while avoiding eye contact with any previous hookups that I preferred not to have to introduce to Jesse as they walk by. Of course, that didn’t stop a few from making their presence known, along with a handful of friends I actually enjoyed seeing amongst the crowd. A couple hours into the day, I saw a couple from my gym. They are a somewhat oddly paired match once you get to know them a bit, but are the sweetest and truthfully sexiest married couple I know. Hell, they even wanted to have me over one evening for some fun, but schedules never worked out in my favor sadly. Nevertheless, both go by Chris strangely enough, both are nurses, and share the same height of about 5’8”. However, thats where the differences start. While Chris #1 is a fiery and outgoing Latino with a leaner build and a wild streak, Chris #2 is a quiet, reserved Asian guy with a thicker muscular body and a go with the flow personality. I honestly never can quite tell what he’s thinking, he just smiles and lets life happen. We stood a while, catching up on each others lives, talking about how I was doing with Jesse and the new relationship, and other random gossip of the day. Chris #1 continued on about their latest adventures at EDC in Las Vegas and all the fun they had, when suddenly he stopped mid sentence. His eyes grew large, as I could tell his attention was drawn away to something happening beyond our conversation near the water. It wasn’t until his usual effeminate exclamation of “oh my god”, that I turned to see what was happening behind me. A rather large fish (what I thought to be an over grown dolphin) had washed ashore, and had a small group of guys gathering around it. Dolphins aren’t an uncommon sight around our beaches. They’re often seen swimming through the open waters, scaring surfers, and delighting tourists, but I’d never seen one this close, or this large. The group of guys around it seemed to be discussing what to do and how to get it back in the water, when two of them bent down to touch it. What happened next set both of my nurse friends running into action, as I stood there mouth agape. Upon contact, both guys appeared to have been shocked with a sort of electrical discharge and flew several feet back from where they were kneeling. Naturally, this caused the other guys around the creature to quickly retreat, leaving it to suffer further on the wet sand alone. About the time that my two friends reached the two that were unconscious, I snapped out of my stupor and joined them to see how I could help. Latino Chris had reached one of the guys and knelt over him, asking him if he was ok and shaking his shoulder to see if he was responsive. However, his arm recoiled when he grabbed the guy’s shoulder, and he yelled, “Shit! I just got shocked.” He attempted to rouse the guy again, roughly rubbing his chest and once again jerking back from an apparent shock. Asian Chris seemed to be having the same experience as they looked at each other, sitting on the sand next to the bodies and discussed what to do. One victim seemed to be breathing while the other next to my Latino friend either was not breathing at all or it was so shallow it was undetectable. He reached up to his neck to check for a pulse and despite some obvious discomfort from more electrical shock, he determined the guy needed CPR. His husband moved over and started compressions as best he could, while Latino Chris performed the mouth to mouth breathing functions. Both would take a few seconds between their duties to back off, shaking their hands or head and release a few expletives due to the jolts they were taking, then return to action. Not even my own CPR training could have prepared me for something like this. You never actually expect to use it, much less face something so bizarre in the process of trying to save a life. Ultimately, the guy started breathing and shuddered back to life after about a minute of CPR. Coughing, he weakly sat up and put his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath and recover from the trauma. The Chris’s fell back on the sand, breathing heavily from the dramatic experience and rested for a moment. The 2nd victim began to stir as well, and we could breath a sigh of relief that it seemed they would be just fine. After a few moments, I gave my hand to my friends to help them up off the ground. To my surprise both of them shocked me! It felt almost like a quick static discharge and it was done. I shook my hand out and laughed, as I asked them if they were ok. Looking up from my hand I realized, at that moment, I wasn’t looking at the top of their heads like I usually do. Instead, Asian Chris was eye to eye with me, if not slightly higher, and Latino Chris was clearly looking down at both of us from a few inches above. My first response was to look down at the sand, as I must have been standing in a hole or they were on the higher part of the beach as it sloped up from the water. But neither was true, and the odd height difference was just the beginning. In fact, I watched as both of their feet elongated slightly, pushing through the sand a couple inches. Then calve muscles developed, pushing out an inch or two on either side of their legs, followed by their quads. Latino Chris’s growth was even more prominent as his legs exploded with new muscle and size. Large tear drop shapes formed as his quads pulsed bigger, pushing into each other and causing him to adjust his stance significantly. My gaze traveled higher as his cute red, white and blue speedos stretched to its limit both in the back and the front. Already decently endowed (he’d once told me he was just shy of 7.5” downstairs), I saw his suit bulge forward like a water balloon. The top opened slightly as his cock grew in obvious length and girth, competing for space against his enlarging balls. A curved portion of his brown hose like penis pushed up and over the edge of his speedos, the head buried somewhere far below visibility, which just served to accentuate his new size. Even in its current flaccid state, I couldn’t imagine it being anything less than 9 or 10 inches soft and already thicker than any cock I’d ever seen. His abs, which had already been well maintained, began popping into greater definition, the valleys between them etching deeper and deeper by the second. The top row was quickly being eclipsed by a growing shadow casted by pecs which had previously been firm and tight, but were now much fuller and stretching all directions into large manly slabs of meat, and pushing out a couple inches from his chest. While his nipples began pointing downward and tanned areolas growing wider than a half dollar coin, the sides of his pecs were beginning to spill out beyond my view, rubbing against swollen and inflating veiny biceps. Large and growing arms attached to thick, rounded deltoids practically the size of my own head, began to flex in response to the growth being experienced. Unexpectedly, I heard him chuckle, the typical effeminate voice I’d grown accustomed to now gone and replaced with a much deeper rumble. I looked up now, further than before, and stumbled back a step, shocked by how much taller he’d gotten. My eyes were just level with his chin, so I had to guess he was close to 6’6” now, maybe more… a growth of practically 10” in just minutes! His face, sitting above ominously sloping, thick traps, was even more rugged. He’d gone from a cute pretty boy, to gorgeously handsome; a look you could only describe as devastatingly attractive masculinity. A grin formed slowly on his lips as he looked down on me. He was most certainly the new alpha between us and clearly enjoying the revelation as he explored his massive body, and I tried not to pass out myself. To be continued...
  25. I wrote this over email for someone I met online. I suppose it means something more between the two of us, but I'm sharing it here. I've never shared anything before, nor have I commented. I've written a series of these for him, so I suppose I'll post one at a time. Thanks for the indulgence. This is a jump-right-in set of fantasies. He and I met online, and he lives near a large city in Colombia. I live in California. ---- Email 1. Because you had never been to a hotel, I made a reservation at one of the fancy hotels in the downtown. You’ve never seen anything like this, so I made sure it would be memorable. I arranged for a limousine to pick us up – you’ve never had this type of luxury. It’s unfortunate that so many have his daily and don’t deserve it, while you deserve it and have never experienced it. I reserved a suite, with its own private balcony, large bathroom and massive king bed. The bathroom is bigger than your room you normally live in. The views from the balcony overlook the massive pool area and gardens of the hotel. You can’t believe this exists. Since it is Colombia, it’s around 38 C outside with 90% humidity…and you laugh at my inexperience with humidity. I’m sweating a lot, and you suggest that sometimes taking a shower helps. Yes. A shower. That’s what I need…and I get an idea. You told me that you’ve never had a warm shower, let alone a hot shower, so you don’t know how it feels and that it works better than cold water when it’s hot outside. So, I start to strip for the shower – I’m still embarrassed to be naked in front of a living, breathing, moving god of muscle and beauty – and I ask you to join me. I don’t give you a chance to strip. I pull you into the shower, which is exposed to the large balcony and overlooks the massive estate of the hotel. I turn on the water, and you instantly gasp. Warm water starts pouring over you, making your already-tight shirt cling even more handsomely to your pecs and abs. Your pants were gripping to your marvelous butt before, but adding water…it was hard to figure out what’s more tempting: the bulge in the front or the bulge in the back. I start to soap up my body, and quickly realize it’s not fair to not have you wash too. I spin you around, your ass to my quickly hardening dick, and start to grope your lengthening and thickening manhood. I bend over, water dripping from me to you, and ask if I may take off your pants. You moan, flex your cock and start to rip your shorts. Your semi 19 cm python swung free, and let me tear away at the rest of your pants. I move my hands…reluctantly…from your massive dick – now much longer than 19 cm, maybe 23 or 24 cm and at least 15 cm around – to your pecs. I start groping them, so tight and full in your shirt. You start to bounce them, tearing the shirt. I help you by ripping the shirt off your body. Your mass swells and fills up the shower. Seeing so much muscle swell, water dripping off all of the ridges and veins snaking your back, my cock swells up even more. It hurts seeing so much beauty within my grip. I add soap to your body and start to scrub. I want to be gentle, since you turn red so easily, but I want to feel the abrasion of your muscles. There’s nothing as hard as them. You start instinctively contracting muscles wherever I add soap. Your biceps swell larger than 40 cm. Your forearms much bigger than 26 cm. Your chest expands larger than 107 cm. Your shoulders become rounder. Your thighs blow past 70 cm. Your cock must be at least 28 cm. It’s angry and red and covered in veins. Your moaning becomes very loud. I don’t know if it’s because of the warm water, your swelling muscles, your massive cock almost at your pecs, or that you’re with me. You bend over, having more muscle spread wide. I lather up your back. It is nothing but ridges and mountains and valleys of muscle, moving and swelling. You bend over even more, showing how wide your back is and how small your waist is. I lower my hands to put more soap on your lats, waist, and ass. I massage your ass and waist, reaching around to grab your colossal cock. I can’t get my hand around it. You bend over even more. I’m puzzled why you keep doing this. But you soon let me know. You start to back up, pushing your perfect ass up against my dick. I understand now. I start to slowly grind my cock against your ass. It’s not anywhere near your size, but since I’m taller, I can grind down against you. I push it between your ass cheeks, much similar to a hotdog between buns, and you instinctively squeeze. I moan. I’ve never felt something that strong. You moan more, reach around and push my dick into you. You’re so hot. My dick feels like it’s on fire. I push with all my strength to enter you. Your ass is so strong it fights back against my entire body. You start to relax with the flow of water. I bend over, grab your chest, and start to massage your words, abs, arms. I kiss your neck and cheek. I keep pushing and pulling. In and out. In and out. You face me, your dark eyes look into mine, and I kiss you. Your tongue is so hot and strong. You reach up to grab my head, your biceps swell. In and out. In and out. In and out. I can’t handle how hot you are, and I warn you I am going to shoot. You beg me to stay in, and grab my ass. I am pushed further into you, and I shoot. Your prostate is pulsing and your massive 30 cm cock erupts. I can’t keep track of what’s hitting me: cum or water. I keep pushing tho. In and out. The massaging keeps your cum flowing. I feel your legs start to shake, and I grab you before you collapse. We need another shower :). --- Email 2. We had sex two more times in the shower. Well, sort of. You made love to me, and then we mutually sucked each other off. I choked on your swollen 30 cm cock twice, but you insisted that I swallow as much as I could. After all of that sex, we needed to go outside. Both of us are so pale, but I tan better than you, so we both put on sunscreen. You insisted that you put some sunscreen on my ass, even though I didn’t think we would be naked. There were people outside! I am too self conscious to do anything that risky. You also don’t want anyone to see you naked…and I want you naked only for me. I called the pool to see if there were any cabanas available, and there was one! It was rather large, next to the pool, and had coverings on all four sides so that we could have privacy. I booked it immediately. We had three hours to use it…so we had to get down to the pool immediately. For as hot as the day was, there were not a lot of people at the pool. We got to our cabana, and then immediately went to the pool. I’m not too fond of swimming, because I don’t like my body, but your god-like body relishes in the swimming. You strip your pants, and I notice you’re wearing a speedo. Your ass bulges commandingly from the rear, and then there’s your cock. The bulge is obscene. Your balls had swollen as much as your manhood, and it was pushing the pouch down. Anyone can see the thick root of your cock easily. You don’t seem to notice or care – your muscles shone in the sunshine, from the sweat and from the sunscreen. We jump into the pool. No one else is in the pool. Too many people were drinking, dancing, or taking selfies. I’m more comfortable than you in the pool, so you stay in the shallow end and I swim all over the pool. I prefer to swim laps, but I didn’t have my prescription goggles so it made it restrictive. I wasn’t happy with swimming that way, but I made it work. You were a blur, but even in that blur I could see your beautiful face and muscular body. I swim back to you. You smile, grab me under my arm pits, and easily pick me up out of the water. I kick the water, playing and partly scared (I didn’t expect that!), and then you throw me back to the deep end. I shoot out of the water, gasp, and call out “you fucker.” You said “only if you’re good” and giggled. Game on. I dove under water and swam at your legs. I stood up, wrapping your legs over my shoulders, and your crotch in my face, and I stand up. You immediately start to worry, because you’re out of the water! I walk around, holding you up this way, and ask you “is this being good?” and start to kiss your cock bulge. You start to moan and then tell me to stop – people will look. I comment that they won’t, since they’re all playing on their phones or drunk. You look around, and notice it’s true. I keep sucking. Your cock stretches more and more, and eventually your speedo breaks. I saw this happening, so I wasn’t surprised when your cock slapped me upside the head. Not going to lie, it really stung. I’m not sure, but it’s feeling thicker than the 15 cm girth and 30 cm length. How you keep becoming more massive, I do not know. I suck on your balls, with your cock hanging on my face and onto my head, and your moaning is getting loud. I feel your balls pull up and start exploding, a fourth time in under an hour, adding more godmade sunscreen onto both of us. Your scream made someone call out, from somewhere and sounding very drunk, “what’s going on?” I got scared and dropped you into the pool. You gasped at that when you came back up, and it was your turn to call me a fucker. I pointed at our cabana, tugged on your 32 cm cock, and said “only if you’re a good boy.” You smiled. --- Email 3. I run and grab your towel to attempt to cover you up as we head back to the cabana. Not going to lie: it was very difficult trying to cover you up. Whatever has been making your muscles grow has made you waist smaller and your penis, now only semi-hard, was pushing 25 cm straight to the side. Watching you walk was amusing to say the least – it looked like you injured your leg…until you notice that massive third leg pushing to the left. We get back into the cabana and you toss away the ridiculous towel. I scold you for being messy, and hang the towel on your cock. You laugh, making it bob up and down. I pull you into the cabana and close the coverings. From the inside it seems rather bright, but having been at the pool noticed you can’t see much of what goes on inside. Probably a lot more alcohol and selfies, based upon the tourists. There are blankets and towels everywhere in the four-square meter space. I had other ideas. I had been pondering why you are getting so much bigger, so much more manlier. Exercise wasn’t entirely doing it – the sex alone should have made you three times the size you are – and it’s not food. Ever since visiting you I notice you don’t eat as much as I think you should. But, since I was trained to think as a scientist, I had a possible cause. I don’t know how it works, but first thing is I must test it. Looking at you, I see how the sun makes a halo around your body. Your pecs, at least 115 cm, look black compared with the light shining around your shoulders and biceps. Your face is hidden, although I’m sure your gorgeous eyes are smiling as big as your mouth is. I had you your glasses, and I grab mine, and we see each other. You are magnificent. God himself couldn’t have made someone so beautiful, so perfect looking, so wonderful, so sweet, so handsome, so charming. I ask you to crawl over to me, and I lie down. I notice that, as you crawl over me, your penis is hard again. I can’t see past it’s profile: it’s so long, so thick, so massive, I can’t see your face or insanely broad chest. I keep my eyes closed and take my glasses off. Then your testicles come into view, and they are bigger than they were. I swear they’re at least 5-7 cm in diameter. How did they get bigger? Just, damn. I can hear more cum being made inside of them – and they must be churning so much testosterone that it keeps that immense log of manhood erect. You sit on my chest. I feel a bit more mass – you are heavier than you were in the pool. I start rubbing your chest and abs. Your six pack is now feeling like they might be eight. Your body is just so hard. Pushing my hands are feeling friction against your skin and muscles – there’s no fat to be found. I only feel striation and veins. The veins are so thick and hot. Your balls push onto my neck, and they’re so heavy I need to try to swallow and breathe. Your cock blocks both of my eyes from seeing you. I keep feeling your muscles, and I slowly start licking your cock. I feel it swelling up thicker with my tongue. My arms swing down and start to feel your thighs. I know the names of every muscle in the thigh. I can feel every muscle, swelling, rippling, generating tens of degrees Celsius. It’s so hot being placed between them. I’m sweating, and it’s slicking them up. I try to reach around and grab you ass. It’s so thick. It’s so hard. It’s so tight. Even with your ass spread open, I can feel your muscle pushing your hole closed. I feel it. So smooth. You giggle at the sensation – is your voice deeper? I might be hearing things. I go back to your thighs and calves. I had not noticed your calves before, but they’re wide and thick. I notice the veins crossing over the back of the swollen muscle. It must also be at least 30 cm around of hard man muscle. You give a loud gasp followed by a deep, sensual moan. As I rub your calves I feel something push against my chin and I feel a cool sting to my forehead. What’s that? Your balls feel like they pulled up and hit my chin…but they’re still crushing my throat. They’ve swollen bigger. That cool sting happened again, but I feel it moving on my forehead. I open my eyes to see your cock – no, a pillar of manliest muscle and fuckhood – standing straight up. It’s almost at your chest, and precum is dripping off it like I just came. I was right. Praising and worshiping your body makes you bigger. I can’t handle this. This defies anything that should make sense. I grab both hands and try to grab your mancock – both hands do not go all the way around it – and I start jerking it. It’s so difficult; the friction is giving my hands blisters. My forearms are burning, as are my arm and shoulder muscles. I cough from your balls bouncing up and down on my throat. I scream your name, acknowledging your body above all others. Your beauty above all others. I want my god to show me his muscles. You give me a double biceps pose, and I see your biceps swell up in size, peaking higher than your shoulders. Your triceps push down. Your forearms swell more. Your lats push outwards. Immediately you move into a most-muscular, where your traps build up higher towards your ears and your chest balloons. Holding onto your cock, you flexed it and pulls me upwards. You tell me to back away as you grab it with your two hands and jerk as hard as you can. I stand up as best I can in the cabana, I bend over to tickle your balls – each the size of an orange – and I gently lick your cockhead. I tickle under neath its flaring sides. You can’t handle it. I can feel, since I’m pressed against this 40 cm monster, waves of contraction move from the base to the head, and you cum again. You hit the top of the cabana and dent it. There is so much cum that it starts flowing over the edges and onto the concrete. You are moaning and screaming as your cock pulses, jet after jet, for two minutes? Three minutes? I don’t know. I’m swimming in your cum and sweat. I’m covered in cum and sweat from your body heat. Once it starts to slow down, you look down at me. You smile with your beautiful, chocolate, love eyes, and I whisper “fuck me.” --- Email 4. I was torn when I saw your massiveness: I know I want you to fill me physically as much as you do with love, but I also knew…I don’t know how this would work. Your cock, at least 40 cm pulsing, would tear me apart. I might not make it. I was willing to try it, because, it’s you. Looking into your beautiful eyes I knew you would not hurt me intentionally. To give me a chance, I ask you to calm down. You awkwardly lower your body – you’re so much bigger than you were, it’s stunning – and sit next to me. In order to calm you down, I start asking you about your mom, to make sure she’s ok. Your face changes, it softens, namely because I know that you have a special place in your heart for her. Her medications are helping her out, but they are just so expensive. I hold your hand during this. You’re not sure what to do. I see tears welling up in your large chocolate eyes. We will make this work. We will make this work. So quickly for your size, you grab me and give me a big hug. For being so hard and muscular, you are so soft and warm. I kiss your cheeks, then rub away your tears. You open your mouth to speak, but I immediately put my fingers onto your lips – those large, succulent lips – and tell you “shh.” Your eyes remain locked onto mine. I move my fingers, and replace them with my lips. Your lips are so soft. I caress the back of your head as you pull my body into yours. I push my tongue into your mouth. You taste even better than your cum does, and your cum is delicious. I continue to make out with you as you slowly lower me down onto my back. We found a spot not still dripping with your cum. Feeling your back move as you move me – it’s just so thick and hot – as I then move my hands around your neck – it’s maybe 35 cm, and barely visible near your insanely huge traps – to your waist, which is so small, and I’m getting aroused again. At times I wish I were growing like you, so I could please you the way you please me. Based upon how you kiss me and caress me and gently handle me, I think you are quite pleased with me. I feel you start to rub your soft cock near my ass. I had slowly been practicing being stretched by you – your girth is so much bigger than my sad looking penis, at times I feel like a child next to you – but even what I’m feeling next to me is somewhat scary. You start rubbing my ass, massaging me to make my hole relax, and continue to kiss me. Your lips are just so soft. After a few minutes of relaxation, you ask me if I’m ready. You push your soft cock – it’s “only” 22 cm at this point and around 10 cm around – in as gently as you can. I’m trying to relax, but even soft you’re so hard. You keep pushing. 5 cm in. 10 cm in. 15 cm in. 20 cm in. I can’t believe that much has been pushed in. You then, slowly, pull all 20 cm out. As you do that, I feel you starting to thicken up. Your erection is coming back. The stretch is painful, but having something that large rubbing against my prostate is unlike anything I have ever felt. I cum immediately. I cum a lot for me. It hurts. You smile, and rub the cum into my abs then start licking your hands. You slowly push the hardening and thickening 27 cm back into me, the friction requiring you to use your strength to overcome the resistance of my body. You pull back out, thickening even more – 13 cm around – lengthening even more – 31 cm. The sensation is unlike anything anyone could describe. My prostate is always being activated by your passive cock. I feel like I have a piece of shit in me that keeps getting bigger and bigger. I look and I can see your bulge inside of my abdomen, as you push back in, swell up even more, and pull out, swelling even more. You continue to kiss my face, rub your arms against my much inferior chest and arms, and I continue to feel your back, your ass, your chest, your arms. My god you are so perfect. You pull almost all 37 cm out – the pressure relieve is amazing – you leave your massive, 6 cm long head in, which is probably 17 cm around by now. You ask me to tell me I love you, and I do. You push all the way back in. I erupt again. And again. It’s too much for me. I am shaking so much that the cabana itself is shaking. You can hear others wondering what we’re doing – stupid drunk tourists – but I don’t care. Your moans were getting louder. After you bottomed out – I felt your balls slap my ass hard – you continued to grow. I felt your cock get even harder inside me. I felt it thicken inside me. I’m pretty sure there should be structural damage inside me, but I don’t feel any pain. Nothing but pleasure. You pull out, slowly, moaning so loudly that others start to giggle at figuring out what we’re doing. Your cock thickens even more as you pull out. It lengthens as you pull out. You keep just the tip in, and use just that to keep fucking me. Just those 10 cm, back and forth, in and out. It tickles so much I cum again. I start masturbating your cock. It’s at least 45 cm if not more. It’s at least 26 cm around – that’s your old forearm width! You start to shake, and I know I can’t handle if you came inside me. That might cause harm. You know that, too, and pull all the way out. Oh my god the relief. You immediately push your cock down into the towels and wooden structure of the cabana, and your God cock breaks the bottom of the cabana. YOU BROKE THE CABANA WITH YOUR COCK. Your roar shakes everything around, and you release again. The blast was so powerful it pushed you back into the cabana, ripping the bottom even more. Cum shot out around three meters everywhere underneath the cabana, and it continued to pulse inside. Five shots took out one of the railings and it collapsed on top of us. You keep cuming. It hits a cabana four meters away. Your cum hits the concrete and makes another pool. You cum and cum for the next five minutes, bathing everything in your manjuice. Guys who didn’t look gay started running over and drinking your cum. Drunk women started using it as lotion. The hotel staff wanted to take their clothes off and masturbate. It was a sight to see – I had found my glasses. You were on your back, erupting like a fountain. If it weren’t for the fact that that we were elevated we might have drown in the cum. Eventually, you stopped. People were in a frenzy, and no one noticed us. I couldn’t walk from the ass pointing you gave me, but I could sit up. I got a glimpse of you before your erection went away. Your cock was 50 cm long at least, your balls the sizes of melons. Your chest, biceps, triceps, forearms, quads, ass, calves, neck, lats, all had grown. It was too much to take in. You pick me up, kiss me gently, with your cock slapping me on my side, and ask me if we should retire to the room. I said yes, falling asleep in your arms.
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